


The Wayne Legacy

by KLCtheBookWorm



Series: Part of the Night [2]
Category: Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Adoption, Childhood Sexual Abuse, F/M, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:59:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 40
Words: 123,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLCtheBookWorm/pseuds/KLCtheBookWorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Batman is dead and everyone else must pick up the pieces of Gotham City.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

### Occupation of Gotham City: Day 91  
Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 1

Jim Gordon stared at the Bat as it disappeared behind the skyscrapers. He had noted that Batman appeared when Bruce Wayne returned from the dead nearly a decade ago, but he fell for the playboy antics like the rest of the city, until Wayne protected the police SUV from the desperate man obeying the Joker. Coleman Reese developed amnesia on Batman's identity after that. And then there was Wayne's reaction to Dent and Dawes' deaths.

It was obvious if you looked deep enough, But Gordon decided then he wouldn't pry for the sake of their friendship. And he would hide Batman's identity for their friendship too.

"Catwoman, where are you...." Nightwing trailed off on his question when the woman's stride down Martin Street did not stop. "Catwoman?" He walked after her at a distance. The woman didn't respond as she climbed into the Tumbler. "Damn it, Catwoman, where are you going?" Nightwing jogged toward the Tumbler. She closed the hatch without answering him. "Catwoman!" She revved the engine. "Catwoman, stop!"

She turned the Tumbler and Nightwing stood in her path. The Tumbler roared as she accelerated. The young vigilante held his ground longer than Gordon would have, but leaped onto the sidewalk when the Tumbler didn't slow or swerve. She maneuvered past the trailer and the Batpod as she went through the intersection and continued down Martin.

Nightwing ran after the Tumbler and stopped near Gordon. His lips curled back. "Right, because what we should do now is separate in half-cocked directions."

Before Gordon could comment, another engine echoed down the street. A red truck that had a gun turret installed in its bed rolled up to them. A young Hispanic woman in a beat officer's filthy uniform climbed out from behind the wheel. "Commissioner, City Hall belongs to the police department."

Gordon nodded before facing Nightwing. "Go after, Catwoman. Make sure we don't have to add her to the casualties list. I'll be at City Hall." Nightwing nodded and sprinted to the Batpod. He waited until the motorcycle sped down Martin Street, and then climbed into the passenger side of the truck. "Do you have a report, Officer?"

"Montoya, sir." She turned the truck and headed to the Narrows Bridge. "I don't have a list of everyone we lost, but I did see Deputy Commissioner Foley gunned down by the female terrorist who took the bomb truck. Is she still at large?"

"No one walked away from that crash." Gordon glanced at the smoke still visible in the rearview mirror. "Foley made a stand after all. How many prisoners do we have?"

"At least twenty when I left to find you, sir. Their ranks broke after the bomb truck left and a lot of the fighters retreated."

Gordon's mustache twitched. They would have to find them before they vanished or caused further harm to the city. "So no one ordered you after me, Montoya?"

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. "No sir, I figured everyone going after the bomb needed more back-up, especially since Catwoman's pregnant."

"Catwoman's pregnant?" That put a different light on her running off.

Montoya's lips twisted. "Mierda, she hadn't told anyone yet. Please sir, don't let her know I told you. She wasn't sure of the father."

"But she confided in you?"

"I was part of the group sent to rescue the kidnapped Wayne Enterprises executives. Only we got trapped underground and found where Bane had locked up Batman and Catwoman. They hid us from their guard, shared their food, and while Batman healed, Catwoman had morning sickness."

He looked at his distressed officer. "I won't breathe a word. It's Catwoman's news to disclose."

Montoya relaxed a hair when a boom shook the buildings and the truck. "What the hell?" she demanded.

"Batman took the bomb out to the bay when we couldn't stop the explosion." Gordon's vision blurred. He jerked off his glasses and found water droplets on the lenses.

"Sir?"

"No autopilot." He swiped his cheeks. "Batman is never coming back."

* * *

Fox stared at the frothing water in the manhole. The escape from the emergency flood left him soaked and empty. He knew he should get dry, but the only energy he had left was to cradle his left arm and stare at the water. He heard the whine of the Tumbler, but couldn't turn to face it.

"Mr. Fox?" Selina's voice called out. "Lucius?" Her footsteps hurried across the pavement to him at the edge of the dump.

"They hacked the safety mechanisms. The reactor's flooded." She squatted beside him as he tried to explain. "We can't reattach the core."

"Bruce took--"

A boom from the ocean roared up the East River and swallowed her words. He turned to hear her better, but now she was sobbing. "No," he said as he looked toward the ocean. "Not Bruce."

Selina inhaled and dammed her tears. "Stand up for me, Lucius. We can't stay out here."

He leaned against her as she helped him into the Tumbler. She pulled a blanket from between the seats and tucked it around him. He realized the radio was speaking in Nightwing's voice.

"Catwoman, talk to me, please! If these runners from Bane's Army shot you, I'll never forgive me. Jen will never forgive me. God will, but He will give me grief--"

Selina turned the heater on full blast before she picked up the radio microphone. "Shut it, Birdboy. I went to get Fox."

"Fox? Oh I thought--"

"Yeah, I know what you were thinking and I'm letting it go because you're suffering from emotional trauma. Fox needs medical attention. Where's the closest hospital?"

"Bane closed all the hospitals. Take him to the East Eighteenth Street Clinic, they're still open. Stay there and I'll meet you after I break open the Dungeon. Nightwing out."

Fox felt more awake and the pain in his arm throbbed more as the heat sunk into his skin. "The core went critical?"

"Yes." Selina didn't look up from the controls. "What happened to your arm?"

"I didn't make it all the way up the emergency manhole exit when the water got me. I don't know if it's broken."

"There's the clinic." She stopped the Tumbler in front of a two-story building on Eighteenth Street. She helped him out of the vehicle and kept the blanket wrapped around him.

He knew the woman soothing a crying toddler in the lobby, but his shaken mind didn't give him a name. He knew her when her hair had more blonde than grey and her face was smooth. She recognized him. "Lucius Fox, what happened to you?" The toddler screamed louder.

A young man came through the swinging door to the rest of the building. "I'll get this case, Aunt Leslie." His eyebrows rose when he saw Catwoman. "How can we help you?"

"Mr. Fox hurt his arm when he got wet," she answered.

"This way." Catwoman didn't let go of Fox until she helped him onto an examination table next to an X-ray machine. "I'm Dr. Thorne," the young man said as he looked at Fox's long fingers. "Miss, there's dry clothing stored in the room across the hall."

"It's Catwoman," she said, but left the room as Dr. Thorne helped Fox peel off his wet layers.

The X-ray revealed his arm was fractured, but not completely broken. The doctor had a lightweight cast on the arm by the time Catwoman returned with a sweat suit in his size. He swallowed the pain medication Dr. Thorne offered and the name finally matched the younger version of the face. "Your aunt is Dr. Leslie Thompkins?"

"That's right." Dr. Thorne helped pull the pants on Fox.

"Good lord, I haven't seen her since the funeral. I had no idea she was still in Gotham."

"Old friend?" Catwoman asked.

"Friend of Thomas Wayne." Fox's throat tightened and he looked down at the floor.

Dr. Thorne took the sweatshirt from Catwoman. "Any health services you need?"

"A paternity test," the masked woman said.

The doctor took her flat statement at face value. "We don't have the equipment for that test and I don't know where Gotham General's maternal fetal medicine specialist ended up."

Catwoman turned her head from both men. "Figures. No joy in Gotham today."

Fox studied her figure. She didn't look pregnant, but that depended on trimester. "You and Br--Batman...? He trailed off when her whole body stiffened.

"I'm pregnant," she announced with ice. "One of Bane's Army guarding us raped me after I had consensual sex. That's why I need a paternity test."

Fox looked back at Dr. Thorne who mouthed Batman repeatedly. "Can't you take a blood sample?"

Dr. Thorne shook himself. "We don't have the equipment for chorionic villus sampling, Amniocentesis, or DNA testing. I could take a blood sample, but who in the city is set up to a fetal DNA test right now?"

"I am."

Catwoman's lips twitched toward a smirk. "What an interesting set of hobbies you have, Mr. Fox."

He adjusted the sleeve around his cast. "We'll need a DNA sample from the alleged fathers."

"I have hair from the guard." She pulled a plastic wrapper out of a compartment on her belt.

"I'll get a sample container." Thorne hurried out of the X-ray room.

Fox lowered his voice. "Did Bruce know?"

"I couldn't. He had the whole city to worry about. I couldn't."

"I understand." He hoped a piece of Bruce was left, mothered by this remarkable woman Bruce had found, and that would be good news for her.


	2. Chapter Two

Nightwing tucked tighter against the Batpod. The wind around him clawed at his armor. The aftermath of the plan had always been vague. They were supposed to be hooking the core to the rest of the reactor right now and after securing Bane and City Hall, Batman and his masked team should have faded away so the police could mop up the rest of the mercenaries and escapees. They would still be operating like they were in charge of Gotham.

But with the explosion over the ocean echoing over through the city, they had to know something went wrong. Nightwing heaved in air against the squeeze on his lungs. No time for that now; people's lives were still at stake. No more death on his watch.

He blasted the front doors of the Stock Exchange open and drove inside. Two armed men lay on the floor under the debris. Two more mercenaries ran toward the Batpod. He leaped off the bike and tackled them both.

The one on the left cracked his skull on the marble floor. The one on the right lost his gun, but pushed Nightwing aside. He landed on his hands and knee, and spun the outstretched leg into the mercenary's side. The mercenary bent over the armored knee slammed against his ribs and Nightwing punched him.

He pulled his leg free from under the unconscious man and confiscated all four guns. They all hung off his shoulder, and if he found any more, he'd need to appoint a deputy to hold them. The stairwell on the left showed scuffs and gouges of many feet. A pile of desks and office chairs blocked the doors to the rest of this floor. _Upstairs then._ The stairs were too steep for the Batpod, so he left it parked in the lobby.

The path of damage ended at the second floor. He remembered to clear this door that barely hung by its hinges, and he stopped before he crossed the threshold. Six armed men adjusted their sweaty grips on their automatic rifles and jerked their heads to the windows and doors. Their steps to change their viewpoints twitched. Tony was one of them, but his jumpy observations included watching the other armed men in the tribunal room.

Nightwing pressed against the stairwell wall where they couldn't see him. Eventually, they'd work up enough nerve to check on all the noise downstairs. The tribunal rooms didn't have shadows to attack out of. He didn't want to test the bullet-proofing of the armor by charging in. What else did he have?

He grinned for the first time in days. He eased the automatic rifles on the landing floor and dropped two of the mini-mines off his belt. He threw both activated spheres down the long room. They hit the wooden mountain of desks at the other end.

All six heads turned to the end of the room. The desk shattered. Tony flattened himself on the floor while the other five men ducked from the blast. Nightwing ran inside, slid across the marble floor on his knees, and collided with two of the guards. One fell flat on his back. Nightwing's fist rose first and hit the second guard's chin. He lifted off his feet before falling back.

One of the standing guards pinned Nightwing's arms from behind. The second one jumped in front and pounded his fists into Nightwing's stomach. The one Nightwing had knocked down climbed to his feet, lurched to them, and swung his fist into the black and blue ribs. The armor only let some easily-ignored pressure through.

"That tickles," Nightwing said. He drew up his legs and fell back against the guard holding him. He slammed his feet into the first puncher. "How do you like it?"

That guard dropped to the floor. Nightwing curled over as fast as he could and slung the one behind him over his head. The mercenary groaned as he hit the floor. Nightwing pivoted into a roundhouse kick. The second puncher caught the kick and hit the floor.

Feet started running across the floor. Nightwing swiveled to see the last guard standing running away. He shook his head at the cowardice, but Tony scrambled up leaving his gun behind and screamed. "Take cover! Take cover!"

Nightwing bolted after them. The mercenary ran to the larger staircase of marble with a ruined red carpet runner instead of the stairwell door leading outside. Tony ran faster and Nightwing pumped his legs harder but he was further into the tribunal room than either of them. The mercenary raised his automatic rifle and fired down the stairs.

Screams echoed up.

"No! Don't kill them!" Tony ran faster. Nightwing pounded after them.

The mercenary stopped firing and ran down the stairs. Tony leaped off the top step. The larger mercenary caught the teenager and threw him onto the stairs. Nightwing tore down after him, but Tony launched himself off the stairs. This tackle worked and both of them landed on the marble floor before rows of barbed wire and chain-linked fencing.

The rifle skidded across the floor away from them. A slim African-American woman thrust open the gate in the fencing, grabbed it, and aimed it at Tony and the mercenary. "Don't move, bastards!"

Tony shifted his head to look at her and the gun. "Yes, ma'am."

Nightwing reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked at him, but the gun never wavered. "Who the hell are you?" she asked.

"Nightwing." He knelt next to Tony and the mercenary and felt for the mercenary's pulse. "You can stand down; he's the last one."

"Jessica Hooks." She pointed the rifle away.

He helped Tony off the mercenary. "Did anyone get hit?"

"Alicia, check for wounded. Are you with Batman?"

"I was." Nightwing waved at the mercenary. "He's out cold and probably has internal injuries. Leave him for the medics to deal with."

Tony rubbed the back of his neck under the collar of his too-large coat. "You were with Batman?"

He shut his eyes behind his mask. He didn't want to see their expressions. "The bomb was going to explode, so Batman flew it out to the ocean. We're alive because he...." His throat closed.

"Jesus," Jessica breathed out. "What are we going to do now?"

"Gotham City P.D.!" was shouted at the top of the stairs. The three of them looked up at Lieutenant Stephens and the other armed resistance members behind him. Stephens huffed as he holstered his side arm. "Should've known anyone with that bike wouldn't leave us anything to do."

Nightwing shrugged as he headed up the stairs. "The mercenary on the floor managed to fire into the crowd here." He realized people were crying. How had he tuned it out before now?

Stephens waved his men forward. "Anything else?"

"Tony was a resistance informant and he tackled the shooter down the stairs before he could shoot at a closer range."

"We'll keep him separate from the other bastards. Go find another fire."

Nightwing shook his head. "I have to catch up with Catwoman and I hope she hasn't found any."

* * *

Selina adjusted her glove over her left arm. The gauze taped over the needle puncture made the leather sit funny. She wandered toward the front of the clinic. Blake had asked her to wait here, and she was apprehensive at best over why. She didn't do crying therapy and she didn't want him all excited about the hope or tragedy waiting in her womb. _God, what an old-fashioned word._ She shook her head as pushed the swinging door into the lobby.

The older woman Fox had identified as Dr. Leslie Thompkins waved to the family of the toddler as they left the building. "Oh hello, dear, got Mr. Fox patched up?"

"Dr. Thorne and I finally convinced him to take a nap before seeing if his apartment had been looted."

She nodded as Selina felt jabbed by her sharp blue eyes. "You look like you could use some tea. Shall I fix you a cup?"

"I probably should drink something." She doubted it would warm or fill the hollow expanding inside her.

Dr. Thompkins smiled and headed toward the swinging door. A body landed against the glass outer door and stumbled inside on thigh-high boots. Selina reached the woman first, gripped the shiny vinyl, and realized the leather corset had a wet hole in the stomach area. "She's been shot!"

"Matthew! Gurney and the bullet kit!" Dr. Thompkins pressed a gauze pad over the hole and ran her hand over the corset's back. "No exit wound. Holly, can you hear me? Who did this?"

Holly's blue lips parted as her eyelids fluttered. "Doc Leslie, need Batman. He took the baby."

Dr. Thorne pushed the gurney into the lobby. He seized the pleather boots and Selina heaved Holly's upper body onto the gurney. Dr. Thompkins pressed more gauze onto the bleeding wound. "Who shot you, Holly?"

"Cly, Roger Cly. Not his type." Holly lifted the long bullwhip she clutched in her right hand. "Batman has to stop him."

That name from the past slapped Selina away from the gurney. She shook it off and leaned into Holly's face. "Roger Cly from Willowwood?"

Her toffee-colored eyes focused on Selina's face. "You know him, pussycat? Not his type."

"My sister was. Where is he?"

"Carlik." Holly pushed the whip handle into Selina's hand. "Give him hell, pussycat," she whispered.

Selina's fist tightened around the leather-covered wooden handle as Holly's chest stopped rising. Dr. Thompkins closed the toffee-colored eyes. "Poor girl, she lost too much blood getting here."

Dr. Thorne pulled the gurney toward the swinging door. Selina pushed open the glass doors. She heard Dr. Thompkins yelling as she followed her out but she climbed into the Tumbler.

She didn't remember the drive to Carlik Street. People crept out of the buildings and stared at the bright blue sky and the Tumbler in disbelief. She climbed out of the vehicle and watched jaws fall open. "I'm looking for Roger Cly."

"We don't narc around here," a young teenage boy crossed his arms. Selina cracked the whip. He gulped.

An older Hispanic woman jerked the boy behind her. "You want the white man who drools over my grandbabies?" Selina nodded, the bastard hadn't changed. The grandmother pointed to the battered six-story building in the center of the block. "He's in 403. Tried to take my granddaughter inside."

"Thanks." No one on the sidewalk tried to stop her or follow her inside. She silenced her footsteps up the stairs that nobody in this building cared about sweeping clean. 403 was in the center of the hall and locked. She pulled out her electronic lockpick, set the proper needle into it, and bumped the cheap deadbolt. She hated using it--the finesse is in actually picking the lock--but she didn't have time to show off. Still it seemed like a decision from the universe to make her feel worse as the day dragged on. The door swung into the apartment. Time to ruin someone else's day.

She shut the door and listened. Someone shuffled the contents and slammed a cabinet door. The hallway ended in the living room and she saw the filthy white blinds over from the window facing the street. A gas fireplace was on the left wall between her and the window. Two doors led from the living room on the right wall and the kitchen was tucked into an alcove next to the hallway. Its brighter light cast a man's tall shadow into the living room.

A semi-automatic handgun rested on the mantle. How thoughtful to give her evidence before introductions; she tucked it into her belt behind her back. Then she faced the devil from her childhood.

Sixteen years in prison had shrunk him and grayed his hair, but otherwise, Roger Cly hadn't changed from her nightmares. She pushed the memories aside as she watched the tattooed man wearing only faded green sweat pants rummage in the last cabinet. "I thought scum like you got shanked in prison, Cly."

He whirled around with a yelp. He recovered his bluster. "How'd you get in here, bitch?"

"Wrong question." She seized his sinewy arm and spun him into the living room.

He bounced off the puce sofa and jostled more its stuffing free. "Is this crazy dyke day?" He swung at her.

She kicked him into the wall next to the mantle. "Is that what you call every woman you disgust?"

Cly lunged to the mantle, but slapped his hand down on the empty space where his gun had rested. He swung his arm back as he pushed off the wall. "You're dead, bitch!"

Selina dodged aside as he stumbled past her. Her whip lashed across his back. He screamed and ran for the kitchen. "You think that hurt!" she screamed. The whip wrapped around his leg. He fell on the stained carpet before the vinyl tile. "How many girls have you raped?" The whip hit his back again. "How many girls didn't have me to stop you?"

He rolled to grab her feet. She kicked him and cut his chest with her stiletto heel. He scurried back on his knees. She raised the whip again. It hit his outstretched hand and bones shattered. He curled up around that hand. She lashed the whip again.

She lost herself to the rhythm of her strikes and Cly's wails. The hand around her raised wrist woke her up. "Catwoman, enough!" She dropped her left fist before she punched Nightwing in the face. "Don't kill scum like him. Not today, not ever." He let her go and bent over bloody Cly with a pair of handcuffs. "Where's the girl?"

That question deflated her retort that he was not the boss of her. She rolled the whip around her waist with her belt and went to the door closest to the window. It opened into a bedroom. She ducked and a shoe sailed over her head. "It's okay. I'm here to help you."

A head of blonde hair that needed shampooing rose from the right side of the bed. Her blue eyes narrowed and she held up another shoe. "You're not the police."

"No, I'm Catwoman." She kept her hands open. The little girl's eyes were just like Jen's.

"That's not a name."

Nightwing moved to the door. "Catwoman, a woman brought these kid's clothes, said you'd probably need them." He stopped behind her as the girl ducked again. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She peeked up again. "Who are you?"

"I'm Nightwing." The little girl lowered the shoe onto the bed as she stared. Nightwing set the pile of clothes on top of the dusty dresser next to the door. "We have to trade vehicles again. Where did you get a gun?"

"It's Cly's, probably the one he shot Holly with. You better take it."

She felt it move from her back before Nightwing spoke again. "I can't take Cly to the police on the Batpod."

"Batpod?" The little girl inched closer to the foot of the bed. "Like Batman?"

Selina's throat closed up. "We're Batman's friends," Nightwing said. "The vehicles are parked on the street." He pointed to the window. Selina nodded.

She pressed her naked body against the bed before she darted to the window. She limped as she moved.

Nightwing turned to face the living room. "How did he get his hands on her?" he asked under his breath.

"One thing at a time."

The little girl turned from the window. "That's Batman's bike!"

"That's right," Selina said. "Do you believe us now?" The little girl nodded. Selina turned and set the Tumbler's key fob in Nightwing's hand and took the Batpod key fob. "Get Cly out of here."

"Right," he pulled the door shut, leaving Selina and the little girl in the bedroom.

"They said I had to stay with him." The little girl's fingers went into her mouth.

"Your mommy and daddy?"

She shook her head. "The Evermonds. Don't know where Mommy went."

"You don't have to stay with anyone who hurt you." Selina moved the clothes to the bed and backed away. "What's your name?"

"Stephanie." She pulled on the panties. "Who will get me?" She picked up the long-sleeved purple shirt.

"The Evermonds hurt you?" Selina knelt next to Stephanie and helped her put on the jeans. The clothes were a little baggy, but warm against the winter temperatures.

Stephanie sat on the floor and held up her bare foot. "They always yelled and pushed me and didn't feed me every time I was hungry."

"Here's an idea." Selina pulled the socks and shoes onto Stephanie's feet and then tied the shoelaces. "You stay with me until we find your mommy." The little girl frowned. Selina unlatched her mask. "My name is Selina Kyle."

"It's a secret?" She touched the mask.

"For everyone else. You can keep a secret?"

"Sure," the little girl said. Selina put her mask back on. Stephanie wrapped her arms around Selina's neck. "I'll stay with you."

Selina picked Stephanie up, hugged the child, and wrapped a blanket around them both. She tied the ends. "Okay, sweetie, we're going to take a ride on a motorcycle. You have to hang on tight." Under the blanket, Stephanie's arms and legs tightened around Selina's neck and waist. Selina carried her downstairs, slid onto the Batpod without crushing the child, and headed for the bunker.

The Sheal Docklands were deserted. That suited Selina as she drove into the shipping yard. It was harder to hide in daylight, so better that no one was looking around. She scanned the yard as she went down the lane. Something black and vaguely boat shaped looked like it had washed up from the river. She'd check on it after she took care of Stephanie.

The cargo container doors opened automatically for the vehicle. "We're almost there." She swung off the Batpod as the lift lowered and untied the blanket. Stephanie kicked free of it and Selina set her on the concrete platform. "You hung on great."

The light spilled up from the edges of the lift. Stephanie stepped between Selina and the Batpod. "Where are we?"

"We call it the bunker."

"The Batbunker?"

Selina blinked rapidly. "Sure, why not." She didn't want to tell the girl what happened to Batman. Hell, she didn't even want to think about it. The hollow expanded against her ribs.

The lift settled into the floor and Stephanie peeked around Selina's legs. "Messy."

Lived in, certainly; four people had been in here yesterday. But messy described the trail of equipment from the lift. The black cape made a puddle four steps from the lift. A black gauntlet rested on the floor in front of the garage room, the second one between the table and the Batsuit's empty cabinet. Selina trotted after the items. The bronze belt had slid off the computer desk into a crumpled heap on the floor. The cowl rested on its side on the red gym mat.

And black armored legs extended from the air mattress.

**"Bruce!"** Selina skidded to a stop and dropped to her knees beside the air mattress. She felt for his pulse on his neck, stripped her glove off, and felt again with her bare fingers. It was still there, but weak and slow. Gauze lay on the mattress between his hand and his stab wound. She touched the hole and bright red blood stained her bare fingers.

"Batman's sick?" Stephanie walked up to his feet and hugged the cowl she carried.


	3. Chapter Three

Nightwing shoved Cly's bloody back and the cuffed man stumbled across the marble floor of the City Hall rotunda. A circle of cops broke apart to stare at the cut and bruised man. "Somebody lock this asshole up where he can't reach any more little girls." Two officers grabbed Cly's arms and pulled him away. "We think he killed a woman who died at the East Eighteenth Street Clinic with this gun." He set it into a third police officer's gloved hand. "Where's Commissioner Gordon?"

"He's in the Mayor's office, fourth floor."

He nodded and found the elevator. The Mayor's office was across from the elevator. Gordon, Stephens, and the precinct captains surrounded a table set up in the receptionist's waiting room. He knocked on the glass wall before leaning on the door jamb. "I just brought you Roger Cly. Ninety-nine percent sure he raped a little girl, and suspect he killed a woman who died at the East Eighteenth Street Clinic. Catwoman has the little girl. I know low priority compared to the rest of the city, but I couldn't leave him out on the streets."

"No point in saving the city from Bane to let the criminals take over again," Gordon said. "They closed Washington Tunnel again."

"What? Why? Aren't they tired of MREs yet?"

"Near as we can tell," the captain of the Fourteenth Precinct said, "the runners from Bane's Army cut off the citizens leaving, realized the National Guard was on the other bank of the North River, and panicked."

"Did anyone get hurt?" Nightwing asked as he moved to the table covered by the largest map of Gotham he had ever seen.

The captain shrugged. "The citizens scattered by the time we got a scout up there. The Blackgate Boys barricaded themselves in an apartment building in Grant with hostages and shoot at anyone approaching the tunnel."

"So how do we clear them out?"

Gordon adjusted his glasses. "Hopefully, you can help with that. We're out of bullets and the mercenaries looted all supplies in the city."

"Can't the feds airlift us supplies?"

Stephens snorted. "They aren't convinced we have control of the city."

"They've locked down Gotham Bridge and we don't have any boats. The people will run out of food before they sneak more Special Forces in or decide to invade." Gordon's mustache bristled. "The potential loss of life under those scenarios is unacceptable. We have to apprehend the Blackgate escapees and reopen the tunnel."

"With what, Commissioner? Police batons?" the captain of the Twenty-Seventh Precinct asked.

"What can you contribute, Nightwing?"

"I don't know." He never got an inventory list. "The Batpod and the Tumbler count for something, right?"

"I'd rather apprehend the criminals, not hospitalize them."

The communicator on Nightwing's belt beeped. "I'll see what I can find, Commissioner." He put it to his ear as he opened the glass-paneled door. "Nightwing here."

"Get back to the bunker now." Catwoman's voice was low and edged.

"She's like, four-years-old, and you're already in trouble?"

"No, Stephanie has been the biggest help fetching medical supplies for the lying jerk who won't stop bleeding who we need to get to a doctor now, but I can't get his bat butt into your car!"

"Okay, I'm on my way." He headed down and jumped into the Tumbler. Catwoman couldn't be saying what she said. No autopilot meant no coming back. He didn't think she would crack up, but he hadn't thought she'd beat a child molesting murderer nearly to death either. If she had... he couldn't finish that thought.

The cargo container doors opened before him and he flexed his fingers on the steering controls as the lift descended. The black SUV he had left parked in the shipping yard after he brought their luggage here was parked in the Tumbler's spot. He backed off the lift and parked. "Catwoman?"

"Get over here!"

He rounded the black SUV. The little girl from Cly's apartment sat in an office chair at the computer desk with Batman's cowl on her lap. Catwoman had tugged the air mattress from its spot on the far wall, but it was hung up against the long concrete table. And Bruce half-dressed as Batman lay on it. "What happened?" he asked.

"Don't know; we found him like this." Catwoman grunted as she pulled.

Nightwing ran around the table. She had wrapped gauze around Bruce's stomach and a thick pad on his right side. He pushed, the air mattress popped free, and he almost stumbled on top of Bruce. "He was non-responsive?"

"Yes, but his color is better than Holly's so I don't think he lost that much blood." The air mattress slid across the concrete floor now, and Catwoman stopped at the open back door. "But his pulse is too slow."

Nightwing opened the mattress' valve and air rushed out. "We'll get him to Doc Leslie. Hey kiddo."

"Stephanie, her name is Stephanie."

"Stephanie," Nightwing repeated, "come ride up here." He opened the front passenger side door. Stephanie carried the cowl to the car. He picked her up and buckled her into the seat.

Catwoman climbed into the back of the SUV. He passed her the end of the deflated air mattress with Bruce's head. She pulled while he lifted. Once Bruce was inside, he closed the back door and slid behind the wheel. "He's stable?"

"Breathing and his pulse are the same. Just drive." She lay next to Bruce.

Nightwing concentrated on driving this SUV across Midtown like it was the Tumbler. Stephanie plopped the cowl on her head as they made the turn onto Eighteenth Street. He pulled into the small parking lot behind the clinic and jumped out. The back door was always unlocked, just like the front door. He grabbed an empty gurney. "Doc Leslie! We got a patient for you!"

He heard her shout behind him as he pushed it to the SUV and opened the back door. Dr. Thorne reached him first. "What happened?"

Catwoman crawled to the back door as they slid Bruce out. "He was stabbed and we put a QuikClot on it. Chased the bomb which he flew out to the ocean and told us it was a suicide flight but we found him bleeding about an hour ago."

Dr. Thorne blinked down at Bruce before pushing the gurney to the door. Dr. Thompkins held it open for them. "How does that armor come off?"

"I'll help with that." Nightwing grabbed the other side of the gurney and pushed.

* * *

Catwoman shook herself as they disappeared into the clinic. She shut the back hatch and walked to Stephanie's door. "Come on, sweetie. Let's find the waiting room." She swung Stephanie onto her hip.

"The doctors gonna fix Batman?" The cowl slipped to the side of Stephanie's head.

"I hope so." She hadn't gone this far back in the clinic earlier. She followed the signs to surgery. A plastic garden bench waited in the hall outside the doors. She set Stephanie on it and sat next to her. "We have to wait her until they tell us what's going on."

"Okay." Stephanie pulled the cowl off and set it on the bench. "You're brave, Catwoman."

"You're the one who's brave. Everything's been so crazy and you've been a big help."

She crawled under Selina's arm. "I like helping."

Selina hugged her. Nightwing stumbled out of the swinging doors and made sure they shut. "What's happening?" she asked.

"They didn't tell me anything. I just got the armor off him." Nightwing raised his hand to wipe his face but dropped it when his fingers hit the mask. "How did he get stabbed like that?"

"He said Talia al Ghul did it. That must be who Miranda Tate really was." She didn't want to repeat the story Barsad had told them and what Bruce had shared of his history. If Bruce wanted Blake to know he had to survive and tell Blake himself.

Dr. Thorne pushed through the doors. "If we need a blood transfusion, you can't donate." He turned from Selina and faced Nightwing. "What's your blood type?"

"O positive." Nightwing straightened. "Does he need a transfusion?"

"Just gathering information in case." Dr. Thorne went back through the surgery doors.

Nightwing's nostrils flared. "Okay, I'm going to get some juice just in case then. Do you want some?"

"Yeah, bring us some."

He returned with three juice boxes and a lightweight plastic chair that he slumped into after setting it down next to the doors. It creaked under his weight. "Did you two have a plan?"

"Do you think I would have wasted so much time with Cly if I knew he was waiting?"

"Point. What was he thinking?" Selina shook her head at his question and finished her juice. Nightwing crushed his juice box. "Gordon needs weapons. The Blackgate Boys blocked the tunnel again and the feds don't believe Bane's gone."

She stared across the hallway at him. "Does he want me to tell them how I shot Bane?"

"You shot Bane?"

"Before he shot Batman."

He grimaced. "GCPD is out of bullets. I doubt your testimony will get the feds to drop off any."

"Then don't ask me to think right now."

"Right." They all fell silent until the surgery doors swung open. Dr. Thompkins and Dr. Thorne emerged, but their poker faces didn't look like they had bad news to give. 

Stephanie squirmed. "Is Batman okay?"

Dr. Thompkins smiled. "Yes, dear, but we need to speak with his next of kin."

Selina swallowed. "That would be me. And he practically adopted him." She pointed to Nightwing.

The old lady's blue eyes flashed. "You are not Bruce Wayne's next of kin."

Selina stiffened, but Nightwing spoke before she screamed at the doctor. "Don't fight her over him. You can ask Bane how well it goes." He stood and offered his chair to the older doctor. 

Dr. Thompkins sat down with a sigh. "The clot formed by the QuikClot jarred loose and he lost two units of blood. The knife missed his vital organs, but the wound needed internal and external sutures, and we'll have to watch for infection."

Dr. Thorne spoke up, "He suffered from another head injury since I last examined him. We put a back brace on his lower back just in case that injury was impacted."

"It wasn't dislocated again, was it?" Selina asked.

Dr. Thorne shook his head. "Just a precaution. But Wayne's medical condition makes a lot more sense now. He's been Batman all this time?"

Selina shifted from Stephanie and curled her fists. "And you don't know how much it has cost him. So if you think you can give his secrets away--"

"No, Catwoman, dear, nothing like that," Dr. Thompkins interrupted. "We don't betray confidences. But why? Why is Bruce Wayne Batman?"

Nightwing stared at Selina. "Gotham needed him," he finally said.

"And now it needs to eat you alive, young man?"

"Bruce needed Batman," Selina said, feeling like she was betraying him while trying to protect him. "If no one else suffered what he suffered, he succeeded. He just saved the entire city, so don't second guess his judgment. Not today."

Dr. Thompkins' blue eyes softened. "You can all sleep in his room. I suspect you haven't had enough rest for the past few days."

They followed the doctors down the hall and into a room equipped as a hospital room. Bruce lay on an adjustable bed not as fancy as the one in the bunker. His color looked good, and he didn't have any tubes helping him breathe. Selina grabbed a stool, set it on Bruce's left side, sat with Stephanie on her lap while Nightwing and Dr. Thorne brought in three cots. The copper wire ring was still on Bruce's left hand.

Stephanie looked up at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm more tired than I thought." Her smile didn't feel right. She wanted to crawl into the bed next to Bruce and hold him until he opened his eyes, but there was no room in the bed and too many people and she had to take care of everything.

Nightwing touched Selina's shoulder. "I'm going to get our clothes and bring back a case of food. You two got this?"

"We got this," Stephanie said.

"Okay. Make sure Catwoman takes a nap before I get back." He ducked out of the room before Selina found something to throw at his head.

"Catwoman." Dr. Thompkins carried a pile of towels and toiletries for the attached bathroom inside. "Is this the baby Holly tried to save?"

Selina nodded. "You need to check Stephanie over. Let's get it over with." She squeezed Bruce's hand before she stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday today, but you guys get the present!


	4. Chapter Four

Bruce blinked and the dimly lit room came into focus. The main fluorescent light in the drop-tile ceiling was off. The bunker's medical bay had a cement ceiling with recessed lighting. Light came from behind his head and a window to his left. He wasn't in the bunker.

Pain throbbed on his right below his ribs. Talia had stabbed him. An IV line was inserted and taped down on his right arm. A hand squeezed his left hand and he needed to flex his fingers for blood flow. He turned his head toward the window.

Selina sat next to the bed, blocking the orange light from the window. The light from the bed's headboard illuminated her compressed lips and sparking brown eyes. He smiled, "Selina."

She leaned over him and spoke in a low voice. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't claw your eyes out for lying to me."

He focused on her trembling lips. "The autopilot actually worked."

Her chest heaved. "Don't you ever do that to me again."

He started to tell her he wouldn't, but her lips pressed down on his. The IV line tweaked his arm, but he tangled his fingers into her hair and pulled her closer. Her mouth opened wider and he tasted peppermint.

She pulled back, pressed forward again, kissed him repeatedly, and pulled back again. "I have to tell the doctors you're awake."

He flexed his left fingers while he waited and listened to Blake's snoring. Selina returned with an older woman. "Hello, young man, I'm Dr. Thompkins. What's the last thing you remember?"

Bruce glanced at Selina who wore her new catsuit without her mask. He was in a hospital gown and something tight and hard wrapped around his low back. Selina smirked. "She knows who we are."

"And I have better things to do with my time than dealing with the news media, so consider me blissfully ignorant on the subject." Dr. Thompkins shone a pen light into his pupils.

"I landed the Bat's escape pod and got into the Bunker. I came in harder than I intended."

"Anything missing before that?" She moved around the bed and wrapped a blood pressure cuff to his left arm.

"Rescuing the police, fighting Bane, Talia al Ghul stabbing me, Selina rescuing me, chasing the bomb, setting the autopilot; is there something I shouldn't remember?"

"I forgot how much fun you Waynes were as patients," she said before removing the cuff. "Your pressure's still on the low side, but remaining steady. Temperature." He closed his mouth around the plastic-covered thermometer. She returned to his right side and lifted the sheet and gown to look at the incision. The skin surrounding the black thread wasn't inflamed. She took the thermometer. "Temperature's normal. We'll start your antibiotics and pain medication now." She made a note on a clipboard on the bedside table before pulling two bottles out of her scrub shirt's pocket.

"No pain killers," Bruce said.

"No journalists have ever mentioned your medical degree, Mr. Wayne." Dr. Thompkins frowned at him.

Selina squeezed his left hand. "Take it tonight and revisit if you need it tomorrow?"

Now that her worry-driven anger had receded, she looked as exhausted as she had in the underground cage. He didn't want to make that worse. "All right." He accepted the two different pills and swallowed them.

Dr. Thompkins nodded at his acquiescence. "Get more rest, both of you. And don't plan on getting out of here without answering my questions." She closed the door behind her.

"I think she means it," Selina said.

"As long as she's willing to let Bruce Wayne stay dead, she can ask whatever she wants."

"What do you mean?"

He twisted closer to the right guardrail on the bed. "Gotham has brought me nothing but pain. I just want a normal life with you. Is that what you want?"

She ran her fingers up his arm. "I want to be with you. Everything else, I'm adaptable."

"Good, then adapt yourself to this bed."

She shook her head as she dropped the left guardrail. "Neither one of us can--"

"Are you hurt?" he interrupted as his chest squeezed.

"Exhausted. You're the one who's hurt." She climbed onto the mattress and pulled a blanket over them.

He curled his left arm around her. "I appreciate how you put up with that." Her hand slid over his mouth. He kissed the palm, and it dropped off when her eyes closed. The pain killer pulled him into a doze. It wasn't a heavy dose, not like a morphine pump would have given him. The city was safe. He could sleep.

Whimpering and tugging on the blanket made him jerk his eyes open. A blonde little girl stood on the bedside stool and stopped pulling the blanket. "Catwoman sick too?"

"She's sleeping. Who are you?"

"Stephanie." She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

Selina's head jerked up. "Stephanie? What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Bad man pulled my legs and I woke up here."

"Nightmare?" Bruce blinked. He hated it when his brain felt this sluggish.

"Nightwing put the bad man in jail. He won't hurt you ever again." Selina sat up. "I'll lay down with her."

"There's room enough, if she's not afraid of me."

"Batman hurts bad people. Am I bad?" She put her fingers into her mouth.

Selina pulled the trembling child into the bed and cradled her against her chest. "There is nothing bad about you. You are a good, brave girl."

Bruce tugged the blanket around them. "I missed a lot while I was out."

"Next time, don't try to blow yourself up and you won't miss anything."

He yawned rather than respond to that.

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 2

A chirping alarm would not stop. Selina groaned and rolled her face toward the pillow. A small hand patted her shoulder. "Phone," Stephanie said brightly.

"Answer it."

"I can't find it."

Selina groaned again, seized Stephanie, and rolled out of the hospital bed. Blake snorted with laughter. "Why did we bother getting more cots if you all end up in Bruce's bed?"

She passed Stephanie to him. "Feed her while I find the phone."

"It's on your belt." Blake set Stephanie onto her feet. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Cocoa Puffs!"

The door shut and she found her belt on the third cot. The communicator chirped again, but who would be calling it when they were all here? "Hello?"

"Are you all right?" Lucius Fox asked.

"Lucius? Sorry, we're okay. It was a rough night." Bruce opened his eyes while she sat on the stool. "What's up this early?" she asked.

"I thought you'd want the test results as soon as it was done. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

Her stomach dropped out of her body. "The test is done? I thought it took longer." She also thought she kept her voice normal, but Bruce frowned at her.

"I didn't have a backlog of tests to get through," Fox said.

"I never planned for you to go straight to work with your arm--"

"Ms. Kyle, my arm is fine, the people who sheltered in my apartment fed me, and I slept while the machines did the work. Now, do you want the results or not?"

She took a deep breath. "Tell me."

Bruce patted down the guardrail and frowned harder at what he didn't find.

"The hair sample you gave me is not the father of your baby."

She clutched the seat of the stool so she didn't fall over with the wave of dizziness that hit her and squeezed the communicator tighter. "How… how accurate is the test?"

"Ninety-nine percent, but I'm sure we can find a sample of Bruce's DNA if you want--"

"That's not necessary. It really isn't." She tightened her grip on the stool. Her head didn't feel like it was attached to her body right now.

Bruce tried to sit up, but the back brace didn't let him.

Fox took a deep breath. "Ms. Kyle, I know you haven't had time to really plan for the future, but Bruce's will didn't make any provisions for children."

That returned her to her body with a jolt. "Lucius Fox, I don't care--"

"I know, I know. But Alfred and I won't deny Bruce's child their birthright. Please factor that in." His voice sounded weary.

Bruce found the Velcro latches for the back brace and tore them open.

She needed to get off this call before he hurt himself. "I haven't had time to think about anything yet. I won't leave Gotham without talking plans over with you, okay?"

"Fair enough. Stay safe. No more chasing after bad men with nothing but a bullwhip."

"Okay, good-bye." She hung the communicator back on her belt.

Bruce gave up on sitting up and reached for her. "What's going on? What test did you need Fox to run? Are you going to pass out?"

"I don't think so." She shifted back to the bed and took his hand. "Calm down because we both can't freak out at the same time and I got dibs." Bruce took a deep breath and his agitation bled away. That was unnerving on top of everything else, so she spilled it all out. "I asked Fox to run a paternity test. You're going to be a father, Bruce."

His hazel eyes blinked. "You let me put you in the battle and you're pregnant!"

She rolled her eyes. "That's the first thing you think of? Besides, I put myself in the battle. You want to bitch Bane didn't blow your head off?" She crossed her arms.

He laid his hand on her stomach that had barely bulged yet. "You could have told me."

"And give you one more thing to worry about? I'm a bad girl, not a mean girl." And that reasoning sounded glib to her ears too.

"My bad girl is having a baby. We're having a baby." He chuckled instead of lashing out like she expected. "Have you been checked out yet?"

"Haven't had a chance."

"That moves up the chain of priorities."

"You want a baby?"

"It was something I never let myself want." He tugged her until she perched over him. His eyes narrowed. "Do you want it?"

"I want yours. Oh yeah, I actually got that." She grinned as relief pushed through the last of the worry in her gut and broke it into tiny pieces.

His hand cupped the back of her head and pulled her down for a kiss. He tucked her into a hug when they broke apart. "Lucius knows I'm the father?"

"He thinks you're dead, but he said he and Alfred didn't want to deny the baby's birthright." Her arms tightened around his chest and felt him breathe. "Rich people don't have out-of-wedlock babies like the rest of us either?"

The room's door opened before he responded and he let her go. Selina sat up. Dr. Thompkins carried in a tray of food. "I'm surprised to find you two awake." She set the tray on a rolling bedside table.

"I slept for eight years. I think I'm all slept out."

Dr. Thompkins put the thermometer into his mouth. "You are so much like Thomas, it's uncanny." Bruce's eyebrows shot up as she checked his stitches. "Still looks good and no fever. How does your back feel?"

"It feels fine." Dr. Thompkins pulled the remote control for the bed out of a holder in the headboard and shifted the bed so Bruce sat up. He tugged the brace from behind his back. "You knew my father?"

She nodded. "We worked together at Gotham General before you were born. He and Martha helped me set up this clinic. Course Bill Earle cut off the funding about a month after they died." She shook her head and pushed the tray of food over Bruce's lap.

"Sorry, but I don't remember you."

"You were busy with school and I was busy securing funding. You hardly needed an old lady troubling you with her problems and memories."

Bruce frowned, "You could have come to me, after I set up the Foundation."

"You concentrated the Wayne Foundation on other projects. Rebuilding Gotham General helped more people than just my clinic. Now eat your soup and take your antibiotic." She set that pill in a plastic cup on the tray and turned to the door.

"How soon can I get up?"

"Young man, don't you think you've earned a rest after yesterday?"

"I'm not unappreciative, Dr. Thompkins, but I need to know."

The older woman huffed. "None of your vital organs were hit by the knife, but you still needed internal and external sutures to stop the bleeding. So no strenuous activity like sex for a month. This run of antibiotics lasts a week, provided no infection sets in. You're lucky. Your scar tissue kept it from being much worse."

Bruce swallowed the antibiotic. "I don't have to use a bed pan, good." Selina hid her smile at his smirk.

Dr. Thompkins crossed her arms. "Where's Alfred Pennyworth?"

His face fell. "He left me. I don't know where he went."

Selina squeezed his hand. "Finding him is still on the agenda." He returned the squeeze.

"Why Batman?"

At this rate, Bruce would never eat, Selina thought. He looked straight ahead. "People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy. I couldn't do that as Bruce Wayne. A flesh and blood man can be ignored or stopped. But a symbol is incorruptible, everlasting."

"Until you blew him up," Selina said.

Before Bruce responded, Dr. Thompkins spoke. "That is how you chose to honor your parents, your family name? By pushing your body past its limits beating up criminals?"

"Gotham is safe now."

Blake opened the door for him and Stephanie, who now had a Cabbage Patch doll with yellow yarn hair. "It would be safer if the police had bullets," he said.

Bruce focused on him. "What happened?"

"You cannot go out and fight! Your body will never heal!" Dr. Thompkins threw up her hands.

"Bruce, I'd rather not string you up like a piñata again," Selina said. Bruce squeezed her hand.

The door opened again. "Is there an emergency in here?" Dr. Thorne pushed his head inside.

Dr. Thompkins turned to him. "Matthew, will you explain to Mr. Wayne how he will kill himself?"

"Trying to go heli-skiing again, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce's surprised eyebrows dropped down as he smirked. "That's the last thing on my mind. Which one of you specializes in obstetrics?"

"That's Aunt Leslie's department. Mr. Fox--?"

"Apparently is a workaholic." Selina slid off the hospital bed. "And don't you boys think you're making a battle plan without my input."

"This way, dear." Dr. Thompkins led Selina down a long hallway to a small examination room mostly taken up by a boxy machine. "So you decided to keep the baby." Selina blinked at her. "You're not the first ambivalent mother I've treated, young lady."

"Bruce is the father, not the sick fuck who raped me."

Dr. Thompkins stopped in the center of the tiny room, trapping Selina between the machine and the examination table. "You and Bruce? Thomas and Martha will have a grandchild?" Selina nodded. "And he won't give up this violence for his child!"

"I get it. I really do," Selina said to the doctor's dubious expression. "But if Gotham needs him, he will swoop in. You think wearing a cape or not changes that?"

"There are other methods to help besides one's fists."

"Of course, that's why we need to check the bun in my oven so I can get back and remind him of that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be out-of-town next week, and don't want to have to worry about getting this chapter out, so you dear readers get it early. Enjoy!


	5. Chapter Five

Dr. Thorne stepped out of Dr. Thompkins and Selina's path. Bruce hadn't expected to see that doctor from Gotham General ever again. He cleared his throat. "About the heli-skiing, Dr. Thorne."

"We're not interested in spilling your secrets, Mr. Wayne. Or Mr. Blake's. But my great-aunt has a point about the danger to your health."

"Which I'm not ignoring."

The little girl who slept with him and Selina last night shoved a plastic chair to the right side of the hospital bed and climbed up on it. She hugged her cloth and plastic doll.

"That's all we can ask." Dr. Thorne closed the door behind him.

Bruce turned to Blake. "What's going on out there? The police didn't stop Bane's Army?"

He leaned against the bed's footboard. "The hardcore believers are on suicide watch since they found out Bane and Tate are dead. The trouble is the Blackgate Boys. They blocked up Washington Tunnel and set up a base in Grant with civilian hostages. Bane raided all munitions in the city and the police used what they had yesterday and the feds don't believe Gordon has control of the city."

Bruce opened his packet of saltine crackers and handed them to the blonde girl. She crunched with a grin. "And you want to supply Gordon from Applied Sciences?"

"There has to be something that they can use and we can keep the loss of life down."

"Probably, but I don't know what all is packed in the cargo containers." Bruce tasted the soup before it grew colder. Canned chicken noodle, Selina must not have told them to skip the chicken.

Blake crossed his arms. "Does Selina know or do we have to go to Fox?"

The way he asked that made Bruce look up. "I thought Fox was hurt, but Selina never had a chance to explain. Is something else wrong?"

"Do you want Fox to know you're alive? Since you weren't keen on us knowing yesterday."

"I went back to the bunker to get to you and Selina." But the fantasy he had of running away from Gotham with Selina was evaporating under reality's harsh glare. "I can't face another opponent like Bane again."

Blake uncrossed his arms. "I'll be the hero Gotham needs, Bruce, but I still need your help."

"Bring the WayneTech tablet from the bunker. We'll find something for Gordon to use." Blake nodded and left. Bruce picked up the soup bowl and drank it before another conversation started. He set it down realizing that he was alone with a little girl.

She stared at the black sutures visible through the worn hospital gown. "Does that hurt, Batman?"

"It hurts a little, but it itches more. And you should call me Bruce when I'm not dressed like Batman."

"Bruce," she repeated. "I'm Stephanie. I got Selina bandages for your ouchie."

"Thank you. Where are your parents?"

Her smile vanished as she shrugged and tightened her arms around the doll. "Selina said I better stay with her while she found them. Do I have to go back to the Evermonds?" Her fingers crept into her mouth.

"If Selina wanted you to stay, you can stay." She relaxed and Bruce looked around the hospital room again. No television or radio or books. "Do they have any more toys around here?"

"I saw books."

"Can you read?" She shook her head. "Go get a book, I'll read it to you."

She handed her doll to him before climbing down and leaving the room. He gritted his teeth. Every other time he had been laid up, information was a screen away. Now he had to wait for Selina and Blake and babysit Stephanie. What was taking Selina so long?

Stephanie brought back four children's books. "Sit here." He patted the left side of the bed. She climbed up the stool, sat cross-legged on the mattress, and hugged her doll again. They read three of the books before she curled around her doll and fell asleep. Bruce leaned back and closed his eyes.

The room door opened. "That's impressive considering what she's been through," Selina said.

Bruce opened his eyes. She had changed into a navy blue sweat suit. She dropped her catsuit into her suitcase between the cots before picking up Stephanie. "You shouldn't be lifting."

"She weighs next to nothing and my center of gravity hasn't shifted yet." She laid the girl on a cot and covered her with a blanket.

"It took a long time," he said as she sat on the hospital bed.

"Nothing's wrong. Leslie combined the first and second trimester check-ups, and you still have to fill out your medical history. She gave me an ultrasound, but she didn't have any photo paper. Not that it matters, because our kid has both our love of cameras and refused to uncurl and show if it's a boy or a girl. I'm about fourteen weeks along, perfectly healthy, and could gain more weight. What did you and Blake decide?"

He pulled her against his left side, so his arm wrapped around her. "The police need more weapons to finish taking back the city. Blake thinks the Applied Sciences equipment can help."

"And you think Blake's wrong?"

"Bruce Wayne can give the police something Batman never used, but Bruce Wayne can't stay dead to do that. And it doesn't matter if Bruce Wayne tries to stay dead because they'll put my child in that cold mansion with only photographs, questions, and responsibility to a city."

"Ignoring your constant referral of yourself in the third person, what do you want?"

"I wanted a normal life for us, and I can't promise it." He tasted the bitterness of having to relinquish it. 

She rubbed the wire on his left ring finger. "I half expected to see this off when you got out of surgery."

Did she think that all his promises were worthless now? "I meant what I promised you when I made them."

"You also sped up the time table." He couldn't argue with that. She brushed his hair back from his eyes. "I want to be with **you**. If that means I have to be Mrs. Bruce Wayne, that's fine. What do you think _adaptable_ means?"

He threaded his left hand with hers.

"However, I draw the line at being the wife of an asinine playboy. Surviving the Occupation has to grow that tabloid fodder up."

"I never cared for the damn playboy either." He leaned closer and she met his lips halfway. "I won't let Gotham hurt you again," he said after their kiss.

"Then it's time to finish the job."

* * *

Gordon shook his head. "So everything that could sail sailed off three months ago?"

Stephens leaned against the receptionist's chest-high desk. "The Coast Guard tried to keep their boats on the islands' side of the rivers, but Bane's Army blew them up."

"What didn't blow up. That'll be a shorter list." He pushed aside his notes on all the bad news Gotham still faced. No wonder movies always faded to black after the good guys won.

"I guess I shouldn't tell you what we found at Police Headquarters then."

Someone tapped on the glass wall separating the office from the hall outside with the elevators and made both men look up. John Blake moved to the door. Gordon felt his spirit lift for the first time today. "Got good news for me, son?"

"Maybe. They want a meeting, and I know how you feel about those."

"Let's get it over with then. Stephens, you're in charge here." Gordon followed Blake out of City Hall and into the SUV the younger man had rescued him from the hospital in. "So, how does this work now? Are you taking orders from Catwoman?"

Blake's nose wrinkled. "Don't give her that idea, sir."

"How is she doing?"

"She's tougher than either of us gave her credit of being. And I think she's getting her reward for that."

They drove into a shipping yard in the Sheal Docklands and parked on a lane flanked by C-cans. A little girl sat on top of an oil drum combing the yarn hair of a Cabbage Patch doll. Raised voices drifted out of the open doors of a yellow container. "What part of no strenuous activity doesn't translate for you? If you're that worried about them not getting the job done, I can take the Batpod--"

A man's voice interrupted the woman's. "You are not riding the Batpod again until after the baby's born!"

Blake stopped next to the blonde little girl. "They're still at it?"

"Yeah, but I don't think they're really mad."

"You can't wade into another fight!" the woman's voice yelled out.

"I will to stop you from going into one."

Gordon stepped around Blake and stepped in the C-can's doorway. "How about I arrest you both for vigilantism?"

The couple turned from the stacks of boxes lined up in the container. "You'd do that when we got you presents, Jim?" The woman with long brunette hair said. She must be Catwoman.

Bruce Wayne stretched his hand out as he approached. Gordon clasped it and pulled the younger man into a hug. Bruce stiffened before relaxing and patting Gordon's back. "How bad are you hurt?" Gordon asked.

"He'll heal if he isn't stupid about it," the woman said.

"It's not as bad as it could've been. Internal and external sutures on a stab wound. Selina's appointed herself medical pessimist."

"You weren't getting out of the clinic without one."

Gordon's mustache twitched. "What happens now? We've had twenty-four hours of reporting Batman's dead."

"Batman died saving Gotham from the bomb. Bruce Wayne has crawled out of his panic room to help rebuild." Bruce focused his gaze on Gordon until the Police Commissioner nodded. Bruce relaxed. "Come see what we picked out." Selina climbed onto a taller stack of boxes and held an LED lantern so it shone on the box Bruce opened. "The S.W.A.T. teams still have armor?" he asked.

"Everyone's Kevlar is in fine shape," Gordon said. "What we don't have is bullets."

"If this works as intended, you won't have to worry about bullets." Bruce pulled out a metal canister as long as his forearm. "Bullets have to go somewhere when fired. This generates a force field that repealed them, but I couldn't control where they went so I mothballed it. I changed the polarity so it should attract bullets now."

"You haven't tested it yet, have you?"

Bruce grimaced. "We don't have any bullets either. The first wave better be armored. The escapees are holed up in the apartment building on Hampshire Street?" He put the bullet magnet back in its foam cushion.

Gordon nodded. "The top floor near as we can tell. Two families are hostages."

"Nightwing will go in first and remove the hostages from the equation. Then he can set up the bullet magnet. The police can go in armed with these." Bruce opened the second box at waist-height. Inside nestled three guns the same length as a short-barreled shotgun, but the magazine slid into the stock was the same size as forty-four. "I only have a dozen. They fire these." He poured the contents of a small box into Gordon's hand.

Gordon rolled the forty-four sized bullet between his fingers. The tip felt like a gel capsule and he saw electronic components inside. "What do they do?"

"Taser bullets," Selina said.

"That's a copyrighted name," Bruce said. "Once the shell is broken, the bullet creates an electrical current to create neuromuscular incapacitation."

"Without wires? How do you stop it?"

Bruce pulled out one of the weapons. "All the bullets fired are coded to the gun that fired them." He pointed to a button behind the trigger guard. "Pressing this deactivates all the electroshock bullets it fired."

"And they're immune to your bullet magnet?" Gordon asked.

"The components are plastic. I wish I had more to offer."

Selina snorted. "You forgot to mention using the Tumbler to reopen the tunnel."

"That only works if it hasn't flooded."

Gordon's mustache twitched again. "In that case, do you think it can jump the break in the Adams Bridge?"

"It should." Bruce repacked the gun and the electroshock bullets. "That's the last step after all the escapees have been apprehended. "I'll coordinate--"

"You will not!" Selina left the LED lantern on top her perch as she hopped down.

"Here we go again," Blake said from the doorway.

"Injured or pregnant have no place close to bullets and explosions," Gordon said before their argument continued. "Both of you will stay put in my office until this is over. That's also to best place to take over if the worst case scenario happens. I will get a babysitter to make sure you two stay put if I have to."

Bruce's scowl vanished as he huffed. "You're right. Let's pack up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm running late this week. Back from vacation, assembling a new computer desk, and time change have all combined to hurt my writing output this week.


	6. Chapter Six

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 3

Montoya climbed the City Hall's stairs and avoided the pre-dawn crush around the elevators as everyone readied themselves for the strike against the Blackgate Boys. She had no idea why the Commissioner wanted to see her before the mission. She wasn't S.W.A.T.

Bruce Wayne's hands were deep into the guts of a radio receiver. Commissioner Gordon hovered over his shoulder. "That should do it." He closed the cover. "We'll be able to hear your radio chatter, though you shouldn't chatter much at the start." He spotted Montoya outside the door and pressed his lips together.

Gordon looked at her. "Officer Montoya, I want you to protect Mr. Wayne's party and help them with anything they need."

Wayne's lips curled in enough annoyance for him and her. "We don't need--"

"Just to keep you on your best behavior," Gordon said with a smile. "And it didn't seem fair to put the burden of that all on Ms. Kyle."

Montoya felt like she had stumbled upon a movie halfway through and missed something already revealed to the audience. Wayne exhaled and lost his annoyance. "How long can I expect to be punished?"

The Commissioner smiled wider before he left the Mayor's Office.

"I didn't hold it against him when he pretended to die," Wayne grumbled before shaking his head at Montoya's wide eyes. "Never mind. We have coffee from MREs. Would you like some, Officer?"

"Yes, thank you." He poured the instant coffee pack into a mug, but the hot water came from the coffee pot carafe. The first sip was appalling. "How can they legally call this coffee?" She swallowed the awful bitter down.

"Desperate times allow desperate labels?" Wayne smiled, a politician's smile that she remembered from interviews he had given nearly a decade ago.

"Who's desperate?" A female voice thick with sleep came from behind the receptionist's desk. A woman with long brunette hair stood up with a stretch.

"Desperate to drink the not-coffee," Wayne explained. "Officer Montoya, Selina Kyle."

Sharp brown eyes appraised her. "Morning. I told you Gordon wasn't kidding about the babysitter."

"The punishment doesn't fit the crime." His smile aimed at Kyle was genuine. "Do you want some?"

"I'm not wasting what caffeine I can have while pregnant on that stuff." Kyle joined them in the lobby of the Mayor's office. "I'll take some water." Wayne ducked into the tiny kitchenette.

Montoya drank more of the coffee substitute as she studied Kyle over the rim. The hair was right, allowing for the sleep tangles. The walk was the same, even though these boot heels were lower than the metal spikes. And she was pregnant.

Wayne handed her a water bottle. His height was right and the cape hid the width of his shoulders. This assignment just shifted from keeping a rich man who donated equipment happy to making sure Batman and Catwoman stayed out of the line of fire. Montoya gulped down another swallow.

The radio on the conference table cackled. Wayne and Kyle both moved closer to it. "Team radio check," the Commissioner's voice said. The four S.W.A.T. teams answered before Nightwing asked when they were showing up in Grant. "Don't get hasty, rookie," Gordon answered. "Convoy move out. Maintain radio silence now."

Wayne walked around the receptionist's desk and stared out the large window in the back wall. Kyle followed him. "Don't tense up too much," she said.

"I don't like sending them out with tech that has barely been tested." The line of vehicle lights moved up Badger Boulevard beyond their reflections. "It would go better with me out there."

"He's got good instincts. He'll be fine. Don't tell him I said that." Kyle bumped his hip with hers, left the receptionist's desk with a toiletries bag, and headed for the restroom.

"Too much talking," a child's voice whined.

Wayne bent down behind the desk. "Sorry, Stephanie, go back to sleep." He left the desk and spoke softer. "It's best to let her sleep. Her nightmares woke her up constantly last night."

"You have a kid?" Montoya did keep her voice low, but none of the rumors about Bruce Wayne mentioned children.

"Nightwing and Catwoman rescued her and brought her to the clinic. The doctors didn't have time to care for a child, so we brought Stephanie with us."

"Rescued her from what?"

"No one's told me that. Selina, what was Stephanie rescued from?"

Kyle with combed hair sat on the couch. "A murdering child molester, how did you miss that?"

"Pain pills, told you I hate them." His glib tone did not match his hard eyes as he sat next to her. "And you told her we'd find her parents?"

"She didn't want to go back to the Evermonds. They gave her to Cly, so I didn't want her to go back to them."

"The Evermonds? They've moved into human trafficking?" Montoya strained the last of the imitation coffee with her teeth.

"They've had run-ins with the police?" Wayne asked.

Both of them focused on her, and she restrained from fidgeting with the mug. "They're above my pay grade, but they deal drugs in the neighborhood I patrol in."

"Charming," Kyle said. "I didn't make the wrong call then." Wayne frowned. "You think I promised too much?" she asked.

"The odds are against us finding her parents, and that's probably what they intended. I'll never understand parents like that."

Montoya ducked into the kitchenette and washed her mug. She didn't think they'd attempt escape, unless the radio started with horrific news. She returned to the lobby and found that the little girl had crawled into Kyle's lap and leaned face-first against her chest.

"Are you hungry?" Kyle wrapped a blanket around Stephanie's back.

"Cocoa Puffs."

"We have ravioli," Wayne said as he dug through a small box on the receptionist's desk.

"Ravioli ain't breakfast," Stephanie said with a yawn.

"The Pop-Tart in the bag says it is."

"Fine, Pop-Tart."

"You can give me the ravioli," Kyle said.

"So," Montoya began as Wayne opened the MRE. "How did you two survive the past three months?"

"In a panic room I built when I still lived in the city," Wayne answered. "Selina and I were looking for information to take to the SEC when everything started blowing up. Luckily, I had stored some WayneTech experiments there."

"You won't get into trouble for that?"

"Because I'm not the CEO of Wayne Enterprises? I honestly don't know." He passed the heated Pop-Tart to Kyle.

"Hopefully, nobody will be stupid enough to touch that P.R. nightmare," Kyle said.

"You can have the ones who do. I'm afraid my credibility is shot in public relations."

Montoya felt relief that they had already given thought on what to tell people.

Kyle took the ravioli Wayne brought to her. "Soon we have to find an open store and buy some clothes for Stephanie." He nodded as he sat next to her again.

The radio cackled and all the adults focused on it.

* * *

Nightwing sat in the doorway to the roof on the neighboring apartment building. He already had the collapsible ladder between the two buildings. Now he waited for the police to get into position.

The footsteps vibrated the stairwell, but they were trying to come up quietly. The Lieutenant in charge huffed when he reached the landing. "What, you don't have the bad guys all tied up for us already?"

"That's not the plan." Nightwing picked up the bullet magnet as he stood. "The plan is sound, so we stick to it." He felt the Lieutenant's eyes on his armored back as he stepped across the ladder. The lockpick gun Selina had provided opened the rooftop door, and he slipped into the dark concrete stairwell. No guard in it as far as he could see or hear.

His surveillance put the Blackgate Boys in the apartments lining Hampshire Street. The only other area with a heavy heat signature was the center apartment looking at Maine Street. He opened the top floor's door and slipped into the shadows. No one stood guard in the hall either.

The next S.W.A.T. team would storm up this stairwell, so the bullet magnet needed to be set up in the stairwell at the other end of the hall. He moved silently. The apartments were quiet. He lodged the stairwell door open and set the metal canister next to the wall inside.

A door down the hall opened. Nightwing froze in a fighting stance, but the footsteps crossed the hall and a fist pounded on a door. "I want that sweet ass so let me in!"

The door creaked opened. "Fine, I need a smoke. Get me when you're done." Footsteps headed toward Nightwing.

The escapee didn't pause as he entered the doorway and walked into Nightwing's fist. Nightwing caught the unconscious felon before he hit the floor and secured his hands behind his back with a zip tie. Nightwing left him on the stairwell landing and moved to the apartment he thought had the hostages.

The door to the hall was unlocked, and he shut and locked it as he heard a body hit the floor in the room ahead. "Get over here or I'm shooting Grandpa!"

A teenage girl shook and grabbed the wall behind her as she stood. An older, dark-skinned woman clutched the smaller children around her and tried to shield their eyes. The older man held his head as he rolled on the floor.

"Come on." The dark-skinned thug gestured with his handgun. "Bitch, I don't have all day."

Nightwing stepped out of the foyer and wrapped one hand around the gun and his other arm around the thug's neck. He spun the felon away from the family. The hand loosened around the gun and Nightwing snatched it away.

The felon yanked Nightwing's arm off and turned. Nightwing punched him with his gun. He hit the floor. Nightwing rolled him over onto his stomach. "Any more guards in here?"

"No," the older woman said.

"More hostages?" Nightwing tightened the zip tie around the thug's wrist.

"They locked Mom in the bathroom because the baby wouldn't stop crying," the teenage girl said.

"Go let them out." Nightwing moved to the old man. "Are you all right, sir?"

"I got a hard head." He sat up. "Who are you?"

"Nightwing. Which way is the fire escape?" One of the young kids let go of the older woman and headed down this apartment's hall. He helped the older man to his feet. "Get to the fire escape and go up."

"Up?" another kid asked.

"The police are waiting to get you to safety." The group reached the teenage girl and a young woman about his age trying to wrap a squirming baby in a towel.

"The police?" The mother almost dropped the towel. "Is it true? Batman dug them out?"

"Yeah, we did. Now come on before bullets start flying." They crowded into a small bedroom where the eight-year-old boy was pulling futilely on the window sash. Nightwing stepped around the smaller children and tugged it open. "Go up," he reminded the kid as he lifted him out the window. The teenage girl climbed out next, followed by the older woman who prayed under her breath. Nightwing lifted the four younger children after them.

The mother reached the window and pushed back. "I can't, I can't."

Nightwing took the baby. "Go on, I've got him."

"No, I can't!"

The older man pushed her to the window. "Get your ass up the fire escape before it gets shot." She climbed out, he followed her, and Nightwing carried the baby up.

The S.W.A.T. team helped the children over the ladder to the neighboring building. Nightwing passed the baby to the Lieutenant. "That's all the hostages. Let me get in place with the bullet magnet."

"Ten minutes."

Nightwing rolled his eyes as he climbed down the fire escape and back through the window. He left the felon tied up on the floor and peered into the hall. Still empty. He crept back to the secondary stairwell. The bullet magnet and the unconscious guard were right where he left them. He crouched next to the metal canister and pressed his ear piece against his ear canal.

"The hostages are removed from the building," the Lieutenant's voice grated over the speaker.

Nightwing turned the dial on, and then activated the microphone clipped to the collar of his armor. "Storm the gates."

"S.W.A.T. two go," Commissioner Gordon said.

Boots pounded into the building and up the other stairs. Shouts filled the apartments and hallway before doors sprung open and guns fired. The bullet magnet's hum increased. Bullets rained against the sheet rock between the stairwell and the apartment.

Screams and bodies hit the floor echoed along with the shooting. Feet ran toward Nightwing's open stairwell door. He stood and kicked the first felon who sprinted through the doorway. He bounced off the outer wall before crumpling to the floor. The felons behind him stopped short.

"Kiss the ground," Nightwing said. "Then everyone knows you surrendered."

The felons dropped to their knees and lifted their hands as the third S.W.A.T. team reached the landing behind Nightwing. The gunfire stopped. He moved aside so the police could cuff the felons and turned off the bullet magnet.

"Building is secured, Commissioner. We're checking for stragglers now."

"Good job, Lieutenant Nguyen. Nightwing?"

"On my way down." He picked up the bullet magnet and headed down the stairs. The officers streaming inside stepped aside as he passed. He had parked the Tumbler two blocks down Maine Street, right where the police were moving the prisoner transport vans and S.W.A.T. trucks from now. Commissioner Gordon waited against it. Nightwing shut off his microphone. "So are you going to let me drive this time?"

"Only because I need to get out." Gordon climbed into the passenger seat while Nightwing stowed the bullet magnet and jumped into the driver's seat.

The Tumbler roared around the corner onto Akron Avenue, right past the GCN news van. But water lapping past the blown apart cars made Nightwing throw on the brakes. "And this is why Gotham can't have nice things."

"The National Guard set up camp at the airport," Gordon said. "Head to Adams Bridge."

"Yes, sir." He turned around, drove up Hampshire, and turned onto Hicks Avenue. Livingston Street was a straight shot to Haley Avenue. Adams Bridge and its missing section loomed straight ahead. The computer screen showed all the calculations for the jump over it. He accepted the calculations and let the computer turn on the rocket boost, so all he had to do was steer. "Hold on."

The acceleration pressed both their heads into the seats. No ice had built up in the center of the bridge. Flames shot out of the back as the front wheels lifted off the pavement. The Tumbler sailed over the frozen North River. The back wheels hit the pavement first and the front wheels jolted down next before the Tumbler surged down the bridge.

Gordon grinned. "You think they saw that?"

Nightwing smirked at the scrambling camouflaged men at the end of the bridge. "Oh that sent a message that Bane's not in charge anymore."

* * *

Bruce whirled to face the glass doors, but relaxed when Lieutenant Stephens opened it. "The Commissioner jumped the bridge. GCN is showing it," he said.

"We're working on it, Lieutenant." Montoya set the flat screen television on the conference table next to the radio. Selina pulled the cable wire through the door to the Mayor's inner office and reconnected it.

Stephens frowned. "Wouldn't it be easier just to go in there?"

"The couch is in here," Bruce said before another police officer could question Selina's adamant refusal to spend any time in that office. Montoya let it go; Stephens probably wouldn't. "And it wouldn't fit through the door."

Montoya turned on the television and Stephens didn't question them. Selina sat and tugged Bruce down beside her. Stephanie climbed over the arm rest and balanced on her stomach.

The camera focused on Adams Bridge as the Tumbler jumped over the missing span. "Yes, viewers," Mike Engle's exuberant voice carried over the footage, "Bane is dead and Batman's protégé is taking Commissioner Gordon straight to the federal authorities!"

"I hope no politicos are visiting the feds today," Stephens said with a chuckle. "Jim might be tempted to fire the rockets on that Batmobile again."

"It's got rockets?" Stephanie flopped onto the seat cushion face first. "I want to ride and jump over the bridge!"

"When you grow up and get the job of Police Commissioner, maybe you can." Stephens focused on Bruce. "The S.W.A.T. officers are raving about your Taser bullets."

"I better come up with a catchy, marketable name for them before I get sued. I'm glad they got the job done."

"Everybody's going back to Blackgate and no casualties on either side. Are you staying until Jim gets back?"

"Unless we need to leave," Selina said.

"No rush." Stephens headed to the elevators.

Stephanie rolled over on the couch so she sat upright. "I want a ride now!"

"We'll see after it is finished working," Bruce said. He turned to Selina's smirk. "What?"

"You are so going to be the sucker parent."

He turned back to the television and watched the Tumbler jump without him behind the wheel. "I will never get used to this."

"This is better than the eight years you spent locked up in your mansion. Stop worrying." She dropped her head onto his shoulder.

"It's the federal agents I'm worried about now."

"That they'll take credit? Like to see them try when the whole city knows what happened."

"They can man the brooms and sweep up," Montoya said.

"If that's all they'll do." Bruce didn't want to think of worse scenarios, but his brain loved to always find all the possible ways the situation could deteriorate. Right now, he saw the National Guard coming in, establishing martial law, arresting vigilantes, and terrorizing the populace.

"That is all we will let them do," Montoya declared.

He blinked at the officer almost standing at attention. It wasn't just him and Gordon saving Gotham alone anymore.


	7. Chapter Seven

Bruce's hand closed upon a marker in the desk drawer. "Yellow highlighter, that's another color."

Stephanie held out her hand for it. "Sunshine color!" She kicked her feet as she lay on her stomach.

He stepped around the little girl and her coloring project on the floor and stopped at the television. Selina nodded and he turned off Summer Gleeson's recap of today's events before joining Selina on the couch again. She chuckled as she laid her head against his shoulder. "What?" he asked.

"You remember the first night at your mansion?"

"You showing off your legs as you flipped out the window?"

"Second night then, when you were flirting so badly. Remember what you asked me to do?"

"Stay with me and help me spend my money on Gotham." The corner of his mouth lifted. "I never saw that happening like this."

She snorted as he put his arm around her shoulders. "Who would? Did you finish Leslie's paperwork?"

He nodded. "I put it back in our bag while you napped."

A cheering--muted by four stories--shook the glass doors. It startled Montoya and her heavy-set partner who had been talking by the elevators. Stephanie dropped her pen and rolled upright. "What was that?"

"Everybody's cheering that Commissioner Gordon's back." Bruce uncurled from Selina and sat up straighter.

Gordon came up the elevator and dismissed Montoya and Bullock before entering the Mayor's office. "I have to put in a supply order with Wayne Enterprises."

"Give us a few weeks. I don't know where the employees are, I still have to get my shares back, and the current CEO was part of the terrorist organization that almost blew up the city."

Gordon grimaced. "The commander of the National Guard troops is on his way in as soon as they reopen Gotham Bridge. Do you want to be a part of that debriefing?"

"There's no reason why I would be. If they have questions about the reactor or how Miranda Tate ended up in charge of Wayne Enterprises, I'll be happy to answer them, but let them think of the questions first." Bruce glanced at Selina and steeled himself for what had to be asked. "What about her record?"

Selina rolled her eyes. He turned back to Gordon's twitching mustache. "Guess you didn't hear how Police Headquarters was destroyed. We may never get all the records straightened out." He headed into the kitchenette and returned drinking from a bottle of water. "But the FBI has jurisdiction over Congressman Gilly's kidnapping."

Selina rolled her eyes again. Bruce didn't even need to look. "He consented to everything," she said. "Why don't you question him without his wife present? Stop worrying about the feds and worry about Stephanie instead."

Bruce frowned. "Why?"

"We're not Child Protection Services." 

Stephanie abandoned her drawing and went to Selina. "You want me to go away?"

She scooped the little girl onto her lap and hugged her. "No, I don't want Child Protection Services to take you away."

Gordon snorted. "What Child Protection Services? Every other government agency shut down to protect their workers. The few orphanages running are swamped. She's better off with you until her parents come forward." 

"What if the Evermonds come?" Stephanie pressed against Selina and put her fingers into her mouth.

"We'll send them away and you'll stay with us," Bruce said as he peeked at her face. Stephanie nodded and he smiled.

"You might have some trouble getting to the Palisades. The National Guard is keeping Gotham locked down while we get the government and aid functioning again." Gordon finished his water.

"We're going to my penthouse as soon as our ride gets here."

"Assuming it isn't trashed?" Gordon asked.

"I installed really good locks."

Selina smirked. "Did you remember the keys this time?"

Blake knocked on the glass before Bruce responded. "Ready to go?"

Gordon smiled. "Take your family home, Bruce." 

He had a family again. There were still gaping holes in the idea, but the ones his parents and Rachel had left had duller edges now. He could think of them as he greeted the police officers who wanted to shake his hand. The hole Alfred left--he jerked away from that one as Stephanie panicked and they concentrated on her distress. They finally loaded into the SUV. "Ready to go home?" he asked.

Blake slid behind the wheel. "I remember the penthouse was on Midtown."

"Cale Street, two blocks down from the Midtown Bridge."

"What's a penthouse?" Stephanie hugged her doll as she sat between Bruce and Selina on the back bench.

"It's the apartment at the top of the building," Selina answered.

Bruce looked out the window at the city glowing in the setting sun's light. The details revealed the work remaining: broken windows, empty streets, over-flowing garbage bins, and non-functioning light signals. Bruce glanced away from the window. Selina stared out hers with a blank expression.

Blake found an empty parking space in the garage of the apartment building between two beaten and burnt car remains. "I hope the arsonists have moved on. I'd like to return this car from the guy I commandeered it from."

Selina smirked. "I want details." Blake shook his head as he unloaded the suitcases.

Stephanie held Bruce's hand when Blake and Selina refused to let him carry anything. He led the way through the abandoned cars to the elevator up to the apartment floors. The electricity still worked and it opened for them. He pressed the button for the top floor and leaned his eye into the security camera above the buttons. A green light flashed and a panel next to the camera slid open revealing a numeric keypad. He typed in the code and the elevator lifted as the keypad closed.

"Didn't look like anyone had tampered with that," Selina said.

"As long as the power stays on tonight, I can set up entry codes for you two."

"The power's been stable in Midtown and Uptown," Blake said, "along with gas and water. Downtown got the worse with the explosions, so more blackouts. How did you let people in for parties?"

"Scan the bar code included on their invitations or call up if they neglected to bring one. The only time it didn't work was when we had police officers escort the guests for the Dent fundraiser." Bruce's lips twisted in distaste. "A dirty cop pretended to have been taken hostage."

The elevator opened on the first floor of the penthouse. The last of the sunlight streamed through the walls of glass, but most of it fell on the covered patio and kitchen beyond the open fireplace.

Stephanie darted out of the elevator first; turned; and stared at the dust cloth-covered furniture, the curved staircase, and the helicopter pad outside. "Who lives here?"

"We do," Bruce said. He stopped at the fireplace and knelt down to turn on the natural gas. The pilot light ignited and flames danced around the ceramic logs in the waist-high pit. Selina folded the white dust cloth off the orange rectangular couches surrounding the fireplace.

"But it's huge! For just us?" Stephanie spun around again.

Bruce straightened and looked at his penthouse. It was bigger than Selina's walk-up. She smirked at him. It was probably closer in square-footage to St. Swithin's' Boys Home, but four people didn't compare to the children the boys home sheltered. Blake gave Bruce a lopsided smile. Bruce cleared his throat. "I'll go check on the electricity."

The electrical panel was hidden in the hallway behind the kitchen that also held the elevator to the second floor. He turned it on, set the thermostat, and opened the water main. He returned to the kitchen where Selina unpacked the MREs and bottled water onto the dining bar. Stephanie pressed against the glass wall to look down at the street. Blake uncovered the seats and the television at the other end of the penthouse.

Bruce turned on the water faucet at the sink before Selina brushed up against him. "Your ego okay?"

"I didn't know I needed to have the glib playboy out so soon."

"Don't, that'll just confuse the poor kid. Where's the dining room?"

He pointed to the stool along the counter. "I ate out often while living here."

"To see and be seen, poor you. So what's upstairs, all the bedrooms?"

"And the study and the gym."

She nodded as Blake sat down at the end of the dining bar and slumped over his elbow on the counter. His brown eyes closed involuntarily. Selina opened an MRE and started heating the contents. Bruce moved around her. "John?"

He jerked his head off his hand and blinked at Bruce. "What now?"

"Eater supper, pick a bedroom, and go to sleep."

He twisted on the stool and looked at the twilight descending on the city. "You don't need me on the night shift?"

"Not tonight. The ones who might have tried something are locked up and the National Guard will back up Gordon. Besides, how effective would you be as exhausted as you are?"

Blake smirked as Selina set a plate and warming entrée in front of him. "Setting the Tumbler on automatic and napping not a viable option?"

"Trust me; the seats aren't comfortable enough for that." Bruce reached for the glasses while Selina opened another MRE.

"In that case, thanks for the night off. Are you okay with kids saying the darndest things?" Blake nodded his head at Stephanie.

"I'm more worried that she'll be the only kindergartner in the city who knows what mass consumption is."

"Nah," Blake said as he opened the heater bag. "Kids know what it is even if they don't know what to call it."

"She'll be fine," Selina said.

"Based on what?" Blake asked.

"She's a Gothamite. We are survivors."

"Can't argue with that," Bruce said.

* * *

Supper was quiet; it had been a long day for everyone. Bruce swept the MRE debris into the garbage and loaded the dishwasher. Selina watched him for any signs of pain. Once the kitchen was clean, he led them around the corner to a second elevator that only traveled between the two penthouse floors. They went down a small hallway on the second floor that ended in a bedroom that spanned the entire end of the building with a king-sized bed in the left corner and a television sitting area on the right. "This is the master bedroom," Bruce said.

"Who had the thing against doors and curtains, you or your decorator?" Selina asked.

"It's one-way glass," Bruce said.

"Yeah." Blake dropped Bruce's duffle bag and parked Selina's suitcase next to it. "I'll take a bedroom at the other end of the hall. With a door."

"On the right, across from the study, I'll show you." Bruce moved out the door and Blake followed him.

Selina shook her head. Stephanie pulled the dust cloths covering the modern chairs around the television. "Come on, let's find you a bedroom."

"I get my own bedroom?" Stephanie caught Selina's hand. "I can sleep on one of the couches."

"You didn't have a bed at the Evermonds?"

"They usually had people sleeping from Mr. Evermonds' medicine. The couch was better and I could hide in the closet."

One of them needed to pay the Evermonds a visit, and it looked like it would fall on Nightwing. Selina had to convince Blake he needed the bullwhip. "You get to have your very own bedroom with us." She opened the first door on the right and flicked on the left and flicked on the lights. "This isn't it."

Stephanie peered around Selina's legs at the large mat in the center of the room surrounded by free weights and high-end isolation exercise machines. "What is it?"

"It's a gym, where you exercise." Selina turned off the lights and shut the door.

"Do I need to exercise?"

"Maybe when you're older. Right now, you should play, but not in there. There's stuff in there that can hurt you." Selina opened the next door on the right. She didn't think it was originally supposed to be a bedroom since another hallway ran between the room's windows and the outer glass wall. But there was a queen-size bed and a wall of wardrobe cabinets in it now.

Stephanie's eyes widened. "All mine?"

"All yours." Selina opened the other door on the far right wall and found a bathroom of white marble and aqua-green glass tiles and fully stocked with soap, shampoo, conditioner, and towels. She decided not to think about how much it cost to keep this skyscraper mansion ready to occupy at a second's notice.

"Where will you sleep?"

"In that huge open bedroom with Bruce." She started filling the tub large enough for Stephanie to swim in. The little girl looked lost. "If you have a nightmare, you run to me, okay? Bruce won't care."

"Okay."

Selina finally got Stephanie into bed wrapped in a tied-to-make-it-smaller T-shirt from Bruce's closet after a bubble bath and blow drying her blonde hair. Few lights in the neighboring buildings shone against the black night and matched Selina's trepidation as she headed to the master bedroom. Their first night alone without a common enemy. Time enough for what she did to sink in. Her dragging feet crossed the threshold into the huge master suite.

The opaque glass panels dividing the bed from the rest of the room glowed from the bedside lamps Bruce had on. Bruises dotted his uncovered arms. Bruce set down his tablet with a smile. "You're wet. Come here and let me make you wetter."

"What part of no strenuous activity don't you understand?" She pulled off her wet black blouse. Now where was the bathroom to hang it up in?

Bruce swung out of the bed wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. "It won't rupture my sutures to give you an orgasm." He took her blouse and tossed it over one of the dividers where it hung and dripped. "It sounded like a good celebration to me."

She refused to walk around the issue for eight years. "You want to celebrate my lying to you."

The smile dropped off his lips, but he didn't look angry. "Did you not tell me you're pregnant because you thought I'd reject you or because of Bane?"

"Bane. I know you wouldn't reject your child. But sidelining me when they didn't consider me a threat," she clenched her fist. "And damned if you didn't try to do it again without knowing! If I hadn't decided not to listen to you...." She trailed off, feeling exposed under his serious gaze.

"I'm not about to apologize for trying to protect you," he said. "And I don't expect one from you for doing the same thing." He touched her hair. "It doesn't suit you."

"I'm not apologizing, but you don't like lying."

"But I lied too," he said. "I never had a chance to test the software patch on the autopilot. I thought it would hurt less than if I had said I was coming back and it failed."

"Great, we're already treating each other shitty. At least you have the excuse of getting better at being selfish."

"For all the good it did us." He shook his head. "So let's learn from this mess." Selina raised her eyebrows. "No secrets, no thinking what is best for the other, trust we always have each other's back, and let this go."

"You trust me that much?"

Something inside her fluttered loose and warmed her with the smoldering look he gave her. "With my life. In fact--"

She cut him off with a kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I want you to get me wet now."

He caressed her hips. "We're having a baby," he murmured against her lips. "And how did you get your jeans wet too?"

"Stephanie figured her bathtub doubled as a swimming pool." Selina stepped out of them and her panties as Bruce tugged them down. She unclasped her bra while he tossed them over the next divider. "Do you have one around here?"

"Wayne Manor does." He crawled over her as she lay back on the mattress. "If she needs one, we can install one on the patio."

She pulled down his head and kissed him. "In December?"

"We can close in the patio."

His lips moved down her neck. She skimmed her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, careful not to press on his bruises. He traced over her collarbone. Her fingers combed through his thick hair. His breath warmed her skin as it shivered in his wake.

She lost all thoughts of renovation projects and considerations for the other inhabitants as Bruce parted her thighs with his gentle hands. "Yes, please." She canted her hips toward his mouth.

He drew patterns on her inner thighs before dropping a soft kiss there. "I've missed how you taste."

"You're the one who-oh!" She forgot the complaint about no bedroom in the bunker when his tongue slid along her folds and flicked her clit. Actually, it was an inspired way to forestall an argument and she planned on using the technique on him as soon as he was medically cleared. He stroked her with his fingertips and she levitated.

He coaxed out her orgasm and milked it until her brain dissolved from the sensation. The first thing she recognized as her senses returned was feather-soft kisses below her navel. Next was Bruce's heartbeat against her thigh. Her fingers were still wrapped in his hair and the heat from his scalp warmed them. Tears sprang to her eyes and she couldn't stop them from falling.

She let go of Bruce's hair and wiped her wet temples. _Stop, stop! Before he notices!_ She pressed the heels of her hands down on her eyes. Her breathing tore out of her mouth.

"Selina?" Bruce lifted himself off her legs. "Did I hurt you?"

She rocked her head against the pillow. Her screwed-up reactions weren't his fault. And she was letting the autopilot go, damn it. She rolled away as he settled on the mattress, but his strong arms wrapped around her.

He tugged her to his chest and pinned her there. "You're safe. We're all safe. Let it go."

She was stronger than this, stronger than what she had done, stronger than what she had seen and felt. She pressed her lips together and closed her teeth down on her sob.

His hand massaged the back of her neck. "It's okay. You know I won't spoil your tough girl image."

She started to laugh at his call back to their teasing banter from a lifetime ago. The laughter morphed into a sob. He continued to rub her tense muscles with a croon under his breath. No judgment, no horror, no bewilderment. "You're safe," he whispered. "Do what you need to."

Her arms wrapped around his chest, high above his stitches, and squeezed until she felt his even breathing. The sobs shoved out of her. They shook both their bodies but Bruce's hands stroked her neck and shoulders.

The sobs finally ended, but he hummed under his breath. She eased one arm free and wiped her face. "I didn't expect that," she said.

"It's probably better than my repress everything until I have nightmares." He eased his arms back but kept his hands on her skin.

She remembered the awful yells when he was unconscious but had blamed them on his pain. "You have nightmares every night?"

"Regularly, not every night unless something else is going on." His cheek muscles moved under her hand as he smiled. "Don't worry. I've had them for years and know how to keep them quiet."

"Don't hide from me."

"I won't." He sealed it with a kiss. "How do you feel?"

Exhausted and numb, but it was a good numb unlike getting drunk to forget. "Ask me in the morning." She settled against his chest and his heart beat under her ear.


	8. Chapter Eight

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 4

The elevator doors opened on the first floor of the penthouse. Alfred Pennyworth stepped onto the marble floor and tugged the wheeled cooler and his suitcase out with him. The security measures in the elevator had not been tampered with, but he frowned at the morning sunlight streaming on the haphazardly-uncovered furniture. Someone was living here now, someone who still hadn't learned to pick up after himself.

He continued to the kitchen area with the cooler and suitcase. Water, gas, and electricity all operated normally. Reports from GCN had been less than clear if the utilities would be available. He tested the temperature in the freezer and the refrigerator before unpacking the cooler's contents.

The box of military ready-to-eat meals on the counter he recognized as the same brand stored in the city bunker. Proof his hunch had been right. He picked up the open box and carried it to the pantry around the corner. The last set of cleaners had not put the supplies away properly.

While he reorganized the pantry and made room for the box of MREs, the smaller elevator came down from the second floor. Bruce Wayne didn't step into the pantry, so Alfred continued his task. Better to have it done before that confrontation. Once he was satisfied with its state, he stepped back into the kitchen.

The television set at the other end of the penthouse moved through the channels. Most of them hadn't returned to the air. The set silenced those static-filled screens while the watcher moved on. The wielder of the remote control didn't linger on any news shows either. Alfred frowned at the odd behavior and moved closer.

A little blonde girl, maybe four or five years of age, stood in front of the armchair facing the television. He had never seen her before. Her left hand balanced the remote against her stomach and her other hand mashed the buttons. An adult-sized T-shirt had been knotted in the sleeves and hem to fit better on her tiny frame. He cleared his throat. "Who do you belong to, little miss?" he asked with a smile.

The remote clattered against the floor. She stared up with wide blue eyes. An expected response since he surprised her with his presence. However, the scream from her driving all the air from his lungs was not. While he stepped back, she ran past the couch to the curved staircase, grabbed the metal handrail, swung herself onto a higher step, and bolted to the door at the top. She screamed again as she opened it.

_Guilty children run and get hurt,_ Alfred's experience told him. What she was guilty of besides trespassing, which she did not accomplish alone, he had no idea. But he ran up the stairs after her to prevent the harm. "Now see here."

She glanced over her shoulder and gained a new burst of speed with a fresh scream. She didn't duck into any of the rooms, but headed straight for the master suite. He barreled after her as fast as his aged but longer legs could run. A door opened behind him but he ignored it.

The child ran across the room to the dividers straight to a familiar brown-haired woman wrapped in the disturbed bed's flat sheet, and flung her tiny arms around a draped leg. Alfred jerked to a stop as the woman raised a bullwhip.

"Selina, no!" Bruce leapt off the bed and grabbed her other arm. "It's Alfred."

The child inhaled and began to sob.

"Not exactly how I thought we'd meet again." Selina lowered the bullwhip and grabbed the sheet before it dropped to the floor. Alfred placed her, the cat burglar who pilfered Mrs. Wayne's pearls.

A loud yawn behind him drew Alfred's attention back to the doorway. Officer Blake dressed in sweat pants uncovered his mouth. "Oh, you guys got this."

"You keep inviting--"

"I didn't!" Bruce interrupted Selina. "Go back to bed, John."

The little girl sniffled. "Just wanted to watch cartoons."

"It's all right, Stephanie." Bruce petted the back of her blonde head. Alfred quailed at the walled-off expression he received. "Alfred, what are you doing here?"

"I saw you on the news." Bruce's face shifted enough to tell Alfred that he knew the bomb detonation ended up on every front page in the world. "Leaving City Hall," Alfred added. "The camera appeared to be set up across the street."

Selina and Bruce looked at each other. "How tired were we that we all missed a camera crew?" she asked.

"Every cop in City Hall wanted to shake my hand, Stephanie freaked out about all the people, and Blake was shooing us out to the car. We'll never have another opportunity to not see them ever again."

"Better give everybody one of those tiny EMP generators then. Where's the bathroom?" Bruce pointed to the hallway against the south wall of the building, and Selina turned her attention down to Stephanie. "Help me get dressed. You can pull my suitcase." Stephanie released Selina, grabbed the suitcase handle, and pulled it along.

Bruce turned to the duffle bag left alone next to the dividers. Alfred couldn't contain his shocked gasp at the black sutures on Bruce's side. "What happened?"

The younger man stood up from his squat with clean clothes in hand. "That, I'd rather stay out of the news." He flung the T-shirt and sweat pants onto the mattress.

He left, so his explanation must come first. "Lucius didn't know anything, so I drove up to the Manor from Philadelphia. The League of Shadows left it alone this time. The bunker was empty as well, except for the mess you left behind. So I decided to check here. I didn't expect to find you here with the jewel thief."

Bruce pulled the black sweat pants over his boxers. "Sorry if you had your heart set on the chimpanzee."

The incision must not be that painful if Bruce could be sarcastic. "And your dismissal of her was half-hearted at best."

The younger man's lips quirked into an amused smirk. But Stephanie ran back into the room. "Bat-no-Bruce! Selina's sick!"

The child knew? That was a different recklessness for Bruce, and Alfred wasn't sure what it meant. He took refuge in the familiar. "Celebrated the liberation of the city a little too much last night?" He eyed the young woman's clothing festooning the bedroom space.

Bruce pulled on the black T-shirt. "She's pregnant," he answered. Stephanie tugged on his hand. "I'm coming."

Alfred retreated as they went to the bathroom. For as badly as he wanted Bruce to start a family, it may have happened too quickly to be healthy. He took the elevator down and went to the kitchen. Regardless if he and Bruce were able to mend things, they all still needed a good breakfast and dinner. Blake sat at the dining bar, held the bag of coffee grounds under his nose, and inhaled. "It usually works better with hot water, Officer Blake."

He opened his eyes. "It's been three months since I smelled good coffee. Oh, and it's Detective for now."

Alfred took the bag. "For now?"

"Until I can give the Commissioner my resignation."

"Law enforcement no longer the career for you?" Alfred filled the coffee pot carafe with water.

"There is a point when the structures fail. When the rules aren't weapons any more; they're shackles, letting the bad guys get ahead. Bane used that against Gotham." His smirk chased away the seriousness. "Plus I promised Bruce I'd help him."

"That is generous of you, Detective Blake. And I do apologize for disturbing your slumber."

Blake waved it aside. "I need to check on things during daylight, so no worries. Plus you need a warning not to meddle."

Alfred raised his eyebrows.

"Selina's got a huge button dealing with not being good enough for Bruce. And she killed Bane to save him. And they were both flirting like crazy until Bane caught them. Don't know what happened then, but they've been wearing those homemade rings for days now."

"I see."

"Just trying to save you from the bullwhip." Blake stood. "Be back after I get dressed."

* * *

Selina reached up and flushed the toilet. The master bath had a blue and steel color scheme. She was glad she had gotten her yoga pants on before her stomach rebelled. They kept off the cold from the marble-tiled floor. She blinked at the metal toilet filling with clean water as her stomach settled. What had Bruce's decorator smoked on this job? No doors, no curtains, and bathroom fixtures that belonged on a plane.

Her peripheral vision caught movement at the door. "See, she's sick." Stephanie moved to Selina's right side and petted her arm.

Bruce stopped at the blue concrete counter and wet a washcloth in the sink. "I believed you, Stephanie. It's all right."

"I tried to stop her, but our kid decided to protest the MREs from yesterday." Selina looked at her bare stomach. "I'm your mommy and we are done with this shit. No more morning sickness." She took the washcloth and ignored Bruce's half-smile. "We weren't trying to interrupt you and Alfred."

"Don't worry. Alfred will be here until he gets an explanation. I don't know if he will like it, but he'll get one." He rinsed a glass on the counter and filled it with water.

"But you want him back."

"If he wants to come back."

"He found you." The water she sipped stayed down. Selina turned to Stephanie. "I'm not sick, sweetie. You didn't have to run and get Bruce."

Stephanie's cupid bow mouth frowned. "You threw up. That's sick."

"Not when I'm going to have a baby. It's annoying, but normal, and hopefully done now."

Stephanie looked at Bruce. "Didn't you use the stuff?"

"What stuff?"

"The stuff to not make a baby."

"I remember being a lot older when I learned about that." Bruce's light tone didn't match his serious eyes.

"The ladies said they couldn't work if they got a baby so they used the stuff."

Selina wanted to punch everyone at the Evermonds in the face. Did no one even try to shield Stephanie from anything ugly? She hid her desire where Stephanie couldn't see it. "It's different for me and Bruce. We want the baby. But if you don't want a baby, you should use the stuff."

Stephanie's eyes welled with tears. "I'm gonna have a baby!" She jammed her fingers into her mouth. Selina reached for her, but she skidded back. "The bad man!" Her tears burst loose. "Just like the ladies."

Selina lunged and pulled Stephanie onto her lap. The little girl stiffened before her hand wrapped around Selina's bra strap and pulled herself against the larger torso. She hugged Stephanie. Bruce's arms wrapped around them both. "Biology doesn't work that way," he said gruffly.

"Only adults have babies." Selina rubbed Stephanie's back. "You're not having a baby because of the bad man."

Stephanie hiccupped as her sobbing wound down. "You're mad. I was bad."

"No."

"Not at you." Bruce kept talking. "You did nothing to deserve being hurt. But the bad man," he swallowed hard, "I am mad at the bad man."

"How mad?" Stephanie peered from under Selina's chin.

"I'd feed him some of Scarecrow's drugs and watch as he deals with his nightmares made real."

Stephanie sniffled. "No punching?"

"Punching last after he screamed himself hoarse."

"Nightwing put him in jail."

"And as long as he stays there, he's safe from me." Bruce's squeeze tightened. "No one will hurt you ever again."

"Okay." They sat on the bathroom's marble-tiled floor, arms interlocked around Stephanie. Selina brushed her head against Bruce's shoulder. Stephanie let go of Selina's bra strap. "I'm hungry."

"We're all hungry." Selina and Bruce let her go and climbed to their feet. "Let's get dressed." Selina found her knit blouse made a passable dress once the sleeves were rolled up and Bruce looped a thin belt around Stephanie's waist. He wiped her face while Selina put on a clean shirt and brushed her teeth. Then the girls took turns brushing hair while Bruce brushed his and shaved off his stubble.

The girls finished before him, and left the bathroom. Selina dropped the sheet onto the rumpled bed when they heard the thump and crack. "What was that?" Stephanie asked.

"A decorator's expense account jumping up and down." She looked down at Stephanie's confused face. "Never mind. Wait here while I get Bruce, okay?" She trotted back to the bathroom. Bruce stood in front of the wall with his fist against the cracked tile. "Feel better?" She pulled him to the sink.

"I kept telling myself that you got to her before the worst happened." He shook his head. "She didn't see?"

"You take out your anger on an innocent wall? No. But next time hold it in until you get to a punch bag." She put his hand under the cold running water. "I know she dropped a bomb on you right after Alfred did--"

"I'm not upset with Alfred," he interrupted.

Selina rolled her eyes. "For a man with a secret identity, you are a terrible liar."

"First aid supplies are in that cabinet." He pointed to the third stainless steel tall cabinet on the wall next to the massive shower. Selina found the gauze and tape on the shelf at eye level. "I'll do better next time," he said. "I don't want her learning my anger management skills."

"That sounds like a plan." She dried off his hand and studied the bruising. "Yeah, this won't take long to heal."

"What did you do to him, Stephanie's bad man?"

"Don't start that."

"No secrets, Selina."

She wrapped the tape around his hand and over the gauze on his knuckles. "We'll talk about it. But right now we have a four-year-old to feed because she's too scared of Alfred to get food from him."

"Right." He flexed his bandaged hand and the tape stayed in place.

Stephanie noticed it as soon as they got into the elevator to the first floor of the penthouse. "What happened?" she frowned.

"Punching a wall is not a good thing to do."

They found Alfred at the stove and toaster and Blake sat at the counter nursing a mug of coffee. Selina spied a wheeled cooler parked next to the refrigerator. She detoured to it.

Bruce scooped up Stephanie and set her on a stool. "Stephanie, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He took care of me after my parents died. Alfred, this is Stephanie and she's living with us now."

"Please to meet you, Miss Stephanie. I'm sorry for frightening you earlier."

"Okay. How come you talk funny?"

Selina wrapped a dish towel around the cold pack from the cooler. "No need to be that blunt, sweetie." She handed Bruce the ice pack and nudged him to the empty stool between Stephanie and Blake.

He sat, put his bandaged hand on the counter, and set the ice pack on top of his knuckles. "And this is Selina Kyle."

Alfred nodded at her. "A pleasure to formally meet you, Miss."

"Likewise." She sat on the last stool next to Stephanie.

"As for how I talk, Miss Stephanie, it's called an accent. I grew up in England and this is how we talk. Now how do you like your eggs?"

Stephanie's eyes widened and she tugged Selina's arm. Selina dropped her head down so the girl whispered in her ear, "I don't know how I like eggs."

"Try them scrambled and say please," Selina whispered back.

"Scrambled, please."

"Very good," Alfred beamed. "Scrambled all round?" Bruce nodded and accepted the mug of coffee Blake scooted in front of him. Blake held the pot up for Selina, and she nodded. A small juice glass full of milk was set down in front of Stephanie before Blake sat down again. Alfred whisked together fresh eggs into a bowl with practiced ease.

Bruce swallowed some coffee before broaching a new topic. "Gotham Bridge is open to everyone?"

"I would assume not at this point, Master Wayne. After finding the Manor empty, I decided it would be easiest to reach the bunker by boat. So I borrowed the Riva Aquariva you left in the Palisades Marina because it wasn't fast enough for you." Alfred poured the egg mixture into the sizzling pan.

Blake chuckled. "Hope you hid it on this side of the river. Bane sunk everything else that floated."

"It's well hidden, but available for use." The look Alfred shot Blake called him a fool for even thinking he would have not considered that and explained why the catering staff had feared him so. Selina hid her smile behind her coffee mug. "I did take the liberty of bringing fresh groceries and the goose is already in the oven."

"Did you bring any Cocoa Puffs?" Stephanie asked.

"I'm afraid not, Miss."

"We'll find you some as soon as the stores open," Bruce said. "But why a goose? We only have goose for Christmas."

"It is Christmas, Master Wayne." Alfred set down plates of toast and scrambled eggs in front of Selina and Stephanie first. "Christmas Day, in fact."

All the adults at the counter blinked at him as he served Blake and Bruce. Selina found her voice. "The kids at St. Swithin's said that they wrote to Santa and I completely forgot. Merry Christmas, where do you keep the tree?"

"Keep the tree?" Bruce asked.

Blake's laugh had a tinge of hysterical weariness to it. "We're not a household that does artificial, evidently." Alfred poured more coffee into his mug. "And nobody opened a tree lot this year."

Bruce had that same look on his face when Stephanie asked who else lived her last night, embarrassed that his standards were so far beyond normal.

"Bane stole Christmas like the Grinch?" Stephanie asked between bites of toast.

"The stuff to have Christmas. You can't steal Christmas," Blake said as he wiped his eyes. "So you didn't bust your hand to get out of decorating."

"He punched the wall because I talked about the bad man," Stephanie said into her milk.

Blake shook his head. "Don't get worked up over Cly. Selina didn't leave much for you to hit."

"What did she do?" Bruce asked.

"Later," Selina answered.

"She hit him with the whip," Stephanie said. "He screamed a lot." She shoveled scrambled eggs into her mouth. Bruce looked over her head at Selina.

"Don't give me that look. I was having a bad day and he's still breathing." She stabbed her eggs.

Bruce turned to Blake. "Are you heading out?"

"I still have a badge. But if Gordon doesn't need me, I'm going back to bed. Thanks for breakfast."

Alfred moved the empty dishes to the sink. "You are welcome, Detective Blake."

The young man left in the main elevator down to the garage. Selina shook her head. "I hope he has had enough coffee to stay awake." Alfred scooped up her and Bruce's plates. "You and Bruce go catch up; Stephanie and I can clean up."

Alfred stiffened. "I understand you are used to doing household tasks for yourself, but I--"

"Quit because Bruce was being an arrogant, neurotic mess," she interrupted.

"Ouch," Bruce said. "Accurate, but ouch." His eyes crinkled.

"So go talk and get rehired while Stephanie and I wash dishes because I know nothing about cooking goose."

Bruce stood and kissed her chastely. "Come on, Alfred. Neither one of us wants her to get the whip." Alfred's shrug was almost a throwing up of hands, but he followed the younger man down the penthouse to the staircase.

She poured Stephanie more milk, loaded the dishwasher, and turned it on before tackling the egg skillet. Order now restored to the kitchen, she and Stephanie headed upstairs via the elevator. Wherever the men had retreated to, it wasn't the master bedroom.

She found her now-charged cell phone and saw it had a signal. "Okay, let's go back downstairs. You can find cartoons while I make a couple of phone calls, okay?"

"I'll be quiet," Stephanie promised.

Catwoman's communicator chirped. She hoped nothing had happened to Blake this quickly as she grabbed it off her black work belt. "Hello?"

"I wrote off that odd phone call from Alfred as something I dreamed last night, an unexpected side effect of the pain killers," Fox said. "So imagine my surprise when I really woke up, turned on GCN, and saw Bruce Wayne alive and helping GCPD. It's the headline story of the day so far."

Selina winced at his dry tone as they got in the elevator again. "Lucius, I am so sorry. He woke up from surgery saying he wanted to keep Bruce Wayne dead. I didn't know what to tell you when you called."

"I'll forgive you if you sit on him long enough for me to chew him out."

Stephanie ran at full speed to the television sitting area. Selina followed at a slower pace. "If Alfred leaves me anything to sit on, I will."

Fox chuckled, "So Alfred tracked you down."

"We're at Bruce's penthouse."

"I'm on my way."

Selina clipped the communicator to the waistband of her pants. "We have company coming, so don't scream at them."

"Okay." Stephanie pointed at the television. "I found Frosty."

"That's a good one to watch. I've got two calls left to make."

"Okay." She climbed into the armchair closest to the glass wall facing the television.

_Best to take care of the business call while everyone was distracted._ Selina went to the end of her contacts list as she wandered toward the fire pit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this would be the third major thing from the film I erased. Can't say I'm sorry about it. :D


	9. Chapter Nine

Oswald Cobblepott the Third unbuttoned a second vest button before reclining in the leather overstuffed chair. The traditional German Christmas dinner had been a resplendent repast. The chef kept the feast focused around fish and pork, and earned his Christmas bonus.

A brief decompression so his digestion system prepared itself for another serving of Christstollen. He sighed as he relaxed and thought about his profit margin for the year, the fluffy profit margin like soft down lining his bank accounts. A metaphor better appreciated with closed eyes.

Sudden shrieking saturated all three floors of the villa. He sat up with a snort and his monocle dropped to his chest. Did one of the other occupants turn on a plebeian horror film? No, the shriek moved. Oswald lumbered to his feet, seized his rapier umbrella from the stand next to the door, and charged out of his office.

He flung the weapon aside as Jen shrieked and ran straight to him. She squeezed him with nary a sprig of mistletoe in sight, and proceeded to jump with her arms embracing him. Her screechy words reached his ears. "She's alive! She's alive! They're both alive!"

Talon and Raptor thundered up the stairs and Jen renewed her shriek for the new audience. "Selina's alive! She and Bruce are both okay!" She let go of Oswald, but continued to bounce.

Now Oswald saw the cell phone clutched in her hand. "Selina contacted you?"

Her grin stretched wider. "Bruce's panic room had no signal and there were too busy helping the police to call before now. But they're both fine!"

"Of course, the affluent oaf had Selina watching out for him." If Jen wanted to ignore the woman dubbed Catwoman, who matched Selina's description, and her exploits against Bane, he would not puncture her disavowal. He fixed the monocle in front of his eye. "So that was Selina in the City Hall footage with Mr. Wayne."

"Be nice, boss man. He kept Selina safe just like I asked him to."

Oswald harrumphed under his breath. A handsome face will still garner any excuse. "Does Selina need an extraction?"

"She didn't ask for one. She just wanted me to know they're okay. It's a Christmas miracle!" While their ears rang from that shout, Jen's eyes bulged and her and hands and cell phone pressed against her cheeks. "I have to go to church!" She dashed down the hall.

"Talon, take her to Heiliggeistkirche. It's the closest."

"But I'm not Catholic."

"You sit there and talk to the Flying Spaghetti Monster for all I care," Oswald snapped. "You speak German and will keep Magpie's exuberant American ass from getting thrown out before she has a chance to pray or whatever. Understand?" The rapier umbrella slashed through the air.

"Yes sir, Penguin." Talon hurried down the stairs and Raptor followed after him. Oswald huffed. Yes, he finally had an appetite for a slice of Christstollen. He returned his umbrella rapier to the stand and waddled down the hall to the kitchen stairs.

* * *

Bruce led the way down the second-story hallway and opened the first door on the right. The lights flickered on in the windowless, bookcase-lined room. He had only uncovered the desk and the computer last night and still needed to give Selina her security code. He didn't let that thought distract him as he headed to the sitting area in the corner. He lifted the dust-cloths off the chairs and side tables. Alfred took them from him and folded them. Bruce eased into the seat and ignored the throb and itch in his side. "Why did you come back? You gave up on me."

Alfred sank into the catty-corner chair. "I never gave up on you. You gave up on life."

"Not like that," Bruce grimaced. Selina had accused him of the same thing, after all. "I had to... punish myself."

"And I couldn't watch you do that to yourself any longer." Alfred's voice cracked.

"You should have told me about Rachel."

"I didn't know what you would do."

Bruce rubbed his face. "It wouldn't have been pretty. I probably would have given Miranda Tate the time of day when she first showed up and Gotham would be destroyed by now." He looked at Alfred's confused frown. "That's right, you don't know." He took a deep breath. "After you left, Fox woke me up with the news of what the computer code from the Stock Exchange attack did: sold off my shares of Wayne Enterprises and emptied my checking account on futures options. We showed Miranda the reactor, asked her to take over Wayne Enterprises to keep Daggett out, and that all went according to everyone's plans. Then I went to Selina to see if she'd lead Batman to Bane since Daggett didn't pay her for my fingerprints. She refused. Bane's men told her they'd kill her and her sister, but she wouldn't help them kill Batman. So I hired her to help me steal my money back."

"Not the most auspicious beginning of a relationship."

Alfred still knew how to bring a smile to Bruce's face without even trying. "And you will tell our kid how Mommy swiped Grandmother's pearls and Daddy got her attention by shooting an arrow past her head."

"The poor child should know that style of flirting isn't liable to work on anyone else."

Bruce's smiled widened. "She's incredible, Alfred. She's not afraid of me, and she followed me into hell." Remembering that erased the smile from Bruce's face and he continued with his tale. Describing how the first fight with Bane went drained the blood from Alfred's face, so he skipped Selina's rape and glossed over how Barsad had treated them during captivity. He doubted he fooled the man who had raised him, but he had given Alfred enough pain.

"My word," Alfred breathed out when Bruce wrapped up the second battle yesterday. "Miss Kyle, you do plan on marrying her, I hope."

"After Gotham recovers enough to issue marriage licenses again. Selina and I haven't talked about that yet."

"And the little girl, Stephanie, she knows you were Batman."

"I'm still not sure how that happened. We'll probably adopt her as soon as we can. It doesn't look like she has anyone else."

"All that depends on the government reopening. What are your plans for now?"

"Ask you to come back for starters."

Alfred pretended to consider it. "It would be a shame to ruin the goose because no else knows how to cook it. And it's in your best interest if I stay, to keep you from being outnumbered in a battle of the sexes."

"Right, like you won't side with the girls against me and Blake."

"Depends on the issue, sir. And I think I deserve a raise."

A smile tugged at Bruce's lips again. "What are we up to, three percent?"

"Make it four for my pain and suffering."

"Done." Bruce stood and offered Alfred his hand. 

But Alfred wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. "I still won't bury you. You and your missus will have to bury me first."

"Don't talk like that, Alfred." Bruce's arms tightened, but not at his full strength. "It's Christmas."

"Very well, Master Wayne." Alfred let him go. "And you better bloody well marry her. Before the baby gets here."

"Noted."

They left the study and headed down the staircase. Stephanie and Selina sat around the television. Stephanie's eyes were glued on _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ , but Selina was listening to Lucius Fox who sat in the armchair facing the television. "It's the two children they brought with them that I think need the most help. She's a mechanical genius, even at such a young age. She improved one of my prototypes that hasn't made it off paper yet. I'm not sure if her brother's just as gifted, but you can't help one without the other."

"There's time to decide what to do for them, no hurries." Selina looked over her shoulder at Bruce and Alfred. "Negotiations successful?"

"Indeed there were, Miss. Would you like a refill, Lucius?"

"Yes, thank you." Fox passed a coffee mug to Alfred as he stood. His left forearm had a cast around it. "I'm glad to you're still in one piece, Mr. Wayne. We have a lot of work to do, your good publicity with the police notwithstanding."

Bruce shook Fox's hand. "Are you up to it?" He gestured to Fox's injury while Selina scooted down the couch so Bruce could sit next to Fox.

"This won't even slow me down." Fox waved the cast as he sat. "It fractured when I was climbing out of the reactor. It flooded and the core exploded."

Selina laid her head on his thigh and Bruce stroked her hair. "I know it cost us a fortune, but good riddance," he said.

"But it doesn't leave us much evidence to give the authorities."

"It's on the books that you built it?" Selina asked.

"The reactor was a R&D project, not Applied Sciences," Fox answered.

"We built it and I refused to activate it because of Dr. Pavel's paper. We can tell them that."

"And Miranda gave Bane the inside scoop about the reactor and when to take the Board hostage. But can we prove that?" Fox asked.

"Officer Montoya," Selina said. "She saw the female terrorist take the bomb truck."

"A nice impartial police officer," Alfred commented as he handed Fox the filled coffee mug. "Would you like a blanket, Miss Selina?"

"That would be nice, thank you."

Bruce tapped the arm rest with his other hand. "How many people did we lose?"

"I don't have a number. When Bane let Miranda, Douglas Fredericks, and me go, Miranda had the idea to empty the Building and everyone go into hiding." Bruce frowned but Fox continued. "Half the Board panicked over their families, left, and didn't regroup with us. We had the office employees and their families safe until Bane's Army captured us. Only half were taken to the Dungeon, and I still haven't heard from them."

"So we don't know if anyone was injured when Nightwing opened the Dungeon. Do you have any good news?"

"You're the majority shareholder of Wayne Enterprises again." Fox's eyes twinkled as he sipped his coffee.

Selina shifted as Alfred unfolded a fleecy blanket on top of her. Burl Ives narrated some part of Rudolph's biography. The view out the window didn't hint toward an explanation of what Fox just said. "How?" Bruce asked.

"Mr. Lorry sent off your complaint before all hell broke loose. It landed on the desk of a former Gothamite who took exception at the federal government's response to Bane."

"Nice to hear someone was angry on our behalf," Selina said.

Fox smiled. "Ms. Gabelle struck me as being upset she couldn't charge Bane with securities fraud. She acted as your advocate and reversed everything done during the Stock Exchange attack as soon as GCSE Euronet declared Metropolis Stock Exchange their official emergency site. Then she was nearly just as angry with you and me for falling off the grid."

"When did you talk to her?"

"Before you got plastered on GCN. I told her I'd try to find you, and she said wait until after Christmas to call back."

Bruce's fingers combed through Selina's hair. "I can't believe it was that easy to fix. Should I send her a thank you gift?"

"The government frowns on bribery," Selina said.

"Not a bribe, a thank you, forget it. We have to reconvene the Board, vote, and reopen. The sooner we can start normal routines, the better for everyone."

Fox set down his mug and leaned forward. "I say we plan it for this Friday. I can appear on GCN and ask for everyone to show up then or call when the phones work. Then we can outline how we are moving forward and give the employees assurances for January second."

"It's best to keep me off the air until the legalities are settled."

"You're not going back into hermitism, are you?"

Bruce felt Alfred's gaze on him, but didn't shift his eyes off Fox's face. "I'm done punishing myself, Lucius. I have to live for my family now."


	10. Chapter Ten

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 7

Bruce stared out the boardroom's window and wished he was shopping with Selina and Stephanie instead. He didn't reckon on what associations the Wayne Enterprises building had when he and Fox planned this day.

It wasn't just the damage to Wayne Tower that necessitated moving the offices into a new building. He had wanted a clean break from William Earle's profiteering and the history of his father's better stewardship. And that had lasted just a few years before he decided he couldn't ever match his parents' legacy. The failure of the reactor and how Talia fooled him pressed on his shoulders and strangled his breathing.

Footsteps paused at the boardroom's main door. Bruce whirled around on guard. Jessica Hooks, Fox's administrative assistant, froze with her fist raised to knock on the open door. He relaxed, "Jessica, I'm glad to see you again."

"I'm… I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Mr. Wayne, but Mr. Fox said you needed the list of current projects for the meeting." She stepped inside and held out a sheet of paper.

He crossed the room to meet her. "It's all right. I was too deep in my own head. How are you and your family?"

"My mother found my son and took him to her home in Bludhaven. He ended up with the group of orphans the National Guard sent back into the city."

Bruce nodded. He had found out about that when he discovered Blake had draped one of the punching bags with camouflage. The children were in less danger now, but it was still irritating that they were sent back where food supplies were still not normalized yet.

"I don't have to worry about him at least, but I still can't sleep through the night. Two a.m., I'm up checking the locks."

He nodded again. "Stephanie has nightmares and moves to an armchair, so I'm up putting her in bed with us." Jessica raised her eyebrows and he realized that sounded worse than it actually was. "Stephanie is a child who Selina and I are taking care of until her parents turn up."

"Turning into Daddy Warbucks on us, Mr. Wayne?" She smiled as she left. He touched his hair before turning his attention to this list of projects.

He had a strategy on how to approach each department worked out when four Board members followed Fox into the boardroom. Lucy Darnay came in first and her hollow eyes darted to take in the whole room. She rounded the other end of the table and sat. Douglas Fredericks entered next and clasped Bruce's hand. He squeezed it while Ernest Defarge and Henry Aquista found their seats. "I'm glad you lived through this, Bruce."

"I'm glad to see you to, Mr. Fredericks."

"Can we get this started? We all have businesses beside Wayne Enterprises to deal with." Defarge drummed his fingers on the table while Fredericks sat close to Bruce.

"Certainly," Fox smiled. "First order of business: Miranda Tate was a part of Bane's organization and died attempting to blow up the city."

Darnay's face paled, creating a geisha-look with her make-up. "What?"

Fredericks looked at Bruce. "Did you have any idea?"

"When she first invested in the reactor? No, her background check came back cleaner than Lau's. I've asked Commissioner Gordon to share any details he is able to from his investigation."

"Why is Mr. Wayne even here?" Defarge curled his finger into his fist rather than point down the table.

"Since Mr. Defarge wants to skip ahead, maybe I should just read all the items for today's meeting." Fox adjusted his glasses as he looked at the sheet of paper in his hand. "Second, the SEC restored the Wayne Enterprises shares that were fraudulently sold, so Bruce Wayne is the majority shareholder once again and has a seat on the Board of Directors. Third, we need to establish the CEO so we can give the employees, stockholders, and the rest of the city some stability."

Aquista glanced down the table at Bruce before turning back to Fox. "And you want to return Bruce Wayne to the position?"

"Oh come on!" Defarge slapped the table. "Granted Wayne isn't a terrorist, but his previous neglect was damn near criminal."

Fredericks bristled, but Bruce spoke first. "Yes, it was." Defarge's eyes gleamed at the admission, but Bruce didn't pause for him to interrupt. "I didn't handle how the reactor could be turned into a weapon or personal issues well at all; I take full responsibilities for my mistakes. All I'm asking for now is a chance to make things right for my family's company and Gotham City. Starting with the deal to provide electroshock bullets to the police department."

"That was a mothballed project, wasn't it?" Fredericks asked. "Have we run any production numbers yet?"

"I have it slated for after the New Year," Fox said. "We need to settle the issues on the agenda, announce them, and let everyone come back to work when it's 2013."

Aquista frowned under his mustache. "There is an issue the meeting's agenda neglected to mention, Mr. Fox. Wayne Enterprise built the reactor. Is it liable for the damages Bane's Army caused to the city?"

"Wayne Enterprises is not responsible for the actions of a terrorist group, even if our CEO was a member of it," Fox said.

"But public perception?" Darnay asked.

"We have a unique partnership with the city's Department of Public Works," Bruce said. "Our contractors can start rebuilding subway tunnels, sewer pipes, roads, and the elevated rail system next week."

"And I suppose you reminded the Commissioner of that?" Defarge sneered.

"He was happy to concentrate on repairing the precinct and Police Headquarters buildings. My plan is to address the citizens in a news conference and tell them the truth about the reactor as well as the work restoring Gotham City."

"Lawyers will swarm all over us if we do that."

Bruce glared at Defarge. "A wise man told me once we all should stop trying to outsmart the truth and just let it have its day. The police and federal investigations will be public knowledge. What do you think will happen if we let the Press frame the story?"

"They'll have Wayne Enterprises as Bane's partner in the Occupation," Fredericks said. "Your plan is sound, Bruce. Shall we have the vote on CEO?"

"I second the motion," Aquista said.

"Show of hands, all in favor of renaming Bruce Wayne as Chief Executive Officer." Fox lifted his. Fredericks pulled his up. Aquista splayed his fingers as his forearm pivoted up from the table. Darnay jerked, but raised her hand even with her chin. Defarge folded his arms so no one would mistakenly assign him an in-favor vote. "The majority stands. Congratulations, Mr. Wayne."

"Thank you for the opportunity to put things right."

"If you manage to do that," Defarge looked at Fox. "Are we finished here?"

"That covers everything as far as the Board of Directors is concerned," Fox said. Defarge strode to the boardroom's door. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Defarge."

Darnay murmured something about her children as she scurried out. Aquista said good-bye before he left. Fredericks lingered. "Defarge voted for Daggett."

Fox frowned. "We have to fill the rest of the Board's seats as soon as possible."

Bruce folded the projects list and slipped it inside his jacket. "Gentlemen, I'll leave the politics to you and go meet with my undoubtedly worried employees."

Fredericks shook his hand again. "Defarge is an idiot. I believe in you, Bruce. Even when you were trying your damndest to prove me wrong."

"Thank you, Mr. Fredericks. I hope to make your proud." Bruce went to every department on every floor, sat with the staff, and talked. Not one of the meetings deviated from the pattern set out by the first: politely accepting the news that Bruce Wayne was in charge again, disbelief that Bruce Wayne knew what they did and cared how they did it, shock over the time off, and the numb cocoon left from the Occupation tearing open. He took notes on what the Wayne Foundation could do and comforted people best he could.

Blake picked him up in a new silver Lexus SUV. "Rough day?" he asked as Bruce sagged in the passenger seat.

"If I never hear 'you're actually a nice man" ever again it will be too soon."

"Because you don't want to be known as nice?"

Bruce stared out the window without seeing the buildings. "Bane hurt them so much. All I can do is listen and throw money around."

"Sometimes all people need is someone to listen. What did they want you to throw money at?"

"That was me trying to fix things. What's going to happen to the bodies in West Chelsea Park? Many were worried about how to find their loved ones if they ended up there."

"Some forensic students from Louisiana have volunteered to excavate and identify the bodies. Gordon and Hudson U have been working out the details."

"One less thing to worry about then." Bruce closed his eyes.

Blake didn't say anything as they parked and headed up to the penthouse. Stephanie ran from the television. "Bruce! Uncle John! Look, look, look!" Bruce let the enthusiastic girl seize his hand and drag him to the bookcase beside the elevator. A frothy mass of lavender satin and tulle cut into a dress hung in adult reach before them. "My Cinderella dress," Stephanie said.

"It's beautiful," Bruce smiled, "but why isn't it in your room?"

"I wanted you to see it."

Bruce lifted it off the bookshelves while Blake ruffled her hair. "Fancy party clothes. Hey, I don't have any."

"So we're going shopping for you tomorrow?" Stephanie asked.

"Don't think so. I'll be in the gym if you need me."

"Come on, let's put this up in your room before it gets damaged." Stephanie and Bruce rode up the elevator and went to her room. They found Alfred and Selina hanging clothes in the wardrobes. "Do I need to get out my black tie?"

Selina took the dress and kissed him. "Only if you're planning something fancy for New Year's Eve. Me, I'd be happy to go watch the ball drop."

He needed to find Mr. Strauss and see what the plans were for Wayne Square then.

"It's beautiful," Stephanie said as she headed to the attached bathroom.

"Miss Stephanie was too excited by it to leave it in the store," Alfred said.

"Did you leave anything in the store?" Bruce looked over the bags still on the bed. A large dollhouse, a child-sized kitchen, and a fake workbench stood against the glass wall.

"We made the boutique owner's year end and quarter. Another Gotham business saved." Selina folded underwear into a drawer inside the wardrobe closest to the door.

Alfred hung a fleecy sweater on the closet rod in the middle wardrobe. "I have to check on supper, Miss Selina."

"Go on. Bruce knows how to wield a hanger." Bruce stepped into Alfred's place and put a knit dress on a tiny hanger. "How was your day?" Selina asked.

"Rough. I wish you had been with me. Your empathy is greater than mine."

"No, it isn't, but it's nice that you think so. Are you back in charge?"

"That part went just like Fox predicted. Then I went to all the departments. They all suffered so much and there's so little I can do." His hand curled into a fist.

She closed the drawer and cupped his cheek. "Pace yourself, okay? You're doing plenty and you'll be able to do more later."

He nodded. Stephanie walked out of the bathroom wrapped in a yellow robe with a hood shaped like a duck's head. "I'm a duck, quack, quack."

Bruce laughed. "Selina, what happened to Stephanie? I thought we had a little girl, not a little duck."

"I guess we better take the toys back."

Stephanie dropped the hood with a laugh. "Fooled you." She skipped to the bed and tugged on the bag closest to the edge. "See what else we bought."

He followed her while Selina grinned at them both. This was new to his life, but it tugged on the lid he kept on memories from before. It felt right, and he pushed his worry to the back of his mind.

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 8

Blake lowered his corner of the casket onto the graveside platform. Commissioner Gordon had given a speech at the memorial service for Deputy Commissioner Foley and the other officers killed in the War for Gotham. Then the departments broke off to bury their own.

He stood with the other pallbearers while the minister from the Ross' church proclaimed Tyler was getting his heavenly reward and how his sacrifice made Gotham safer for everyone. Tyler had been a great partner; everyone in the squad room had taken Blake aside during his first two weeks on the force and told him so. The first day, after they had clocked out and Tyler had learned Blake didn't have anyone waiting on him at home, he had dragged Blake home to meet his wife. Tyler had been more proud of Blake's promotion to detective than Blake had been. "Real bad guys won't stand a chance with you on the case," he had said before clinking his beer bottle against Blake's.

Yolanda bowed her head and her eyelashes glistened. Tara looked confused at the officers surrounding the gravesite. She waved at Blake. He twitched his gloved hand at her. The collar of his dress blues constricted his throat.

The bugler played "Taps," the Chief of Patrol Services Bureau presented Yolanda with a plaque, the rest of the officers and their families offered their condolences one last time before going to the next funeral, and Blake waited them out. His resignation was effective now that the funeral of his former partner was over. Once the crowd was gone, he stepped forward. "I'm so sorry, Yolanda. It's my fault."

"Robin John Blake, don't you dare."

"It was my plan that got Tyler shot."

The plaque hit the chair as she stood and wrapped her arms around him. "The only one responsible is the one who pulled the trigger. Don't you dare wallow in guilt for what you aren't responsible for."

Blake's eyes burned as he squeezed her and Tara's arms latched onto his legs. "No one else will die on my watch."

She eased back and searched his face. "Remember you got people who care about you, John."

"Yeah, Uncle John," echoed under them and Tara let him go.

"I will," he said. They moved away from the casket so the cemetery workers could bury it, and Blake walked beside Yolanda. "You're staying at St. Swithin's?"

"Father Reilly needs a woman for all the girls he's taking care of now. The other families weren't forced back into the city or they've gone to their own homes. My childhood education degree is finally useful. How's your new job with the rich and famous?"

"More normal than you'd think. Bruce Wayne isn't like the image he let the tabloids build up for him." Tara dashed ahead of them on the path. "Maybe we could set up a play date with Stephanie and Tara, and you could see for yourself."

Yolanda raised her eyebrows. "Surely, there are tons of people who want their kids to play with Bruce Wayne's."

"I don't want to see his or Selina's reactions to people using kids to suck up to them." He loosened his black tie and unbuttoned the white shirt's top button underneath it. "Stephanie needs to play with other kids. I don't think she had any around before us either. Maybe we should bring her to the orphanage, see how it goes."

"Why don't you find a nice girl and make your own kids, John?"

Just like that, and he felt the fury and helplessness wash over him when the nice lady for Child Protection Services told him his father was dead and he needed to stay with his cousin, followed by these nice foster parents after they realized his cousin didn't want him. The same fury and helplessness he felt when the string of nice foster parents ran out of patience and left him with Father Reilly. How it boiled for days until he swore he would never leave a child of his to suffer from it. "It has never been safe to want that," he said.

She nodded as they reached the sidewalk outside the cemetery. "Tyler and I had long talks about the risk before we got married and another one before we had Tara. With the right person, it's worth the risk and the regrets don't hurt as much." Her brown eyes watered. "Always remember that."


	11. Chapter Eleven

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 10

Bruce glared at his latest printout. Fox had suggested ways to sway the crowd in his emailed critique, but none of them worked. The whole speech felt as artificial as the bimbos with the billionaire routine had always felt. He dropped the paper onto his library desk next to his pen. He wanted to pound this frustration into a punching bag, but had promised Selina and Alfred to not exercise until the end of January. His eyes fell onto a cardboard bankers' box Alfred had suggested he go through yesterday. It was a better alternative than starting the damn speech over.

He moved his chair in front of the box and lifted the lid. It was full of things kept in the library nine years ago before they moved into the rebuilt Manor. The stuff must not be that important if they had left it stored in the penthouse. The topmost item was a pile of papers dealing with his payment to the Moscow Ballet. He dropped those in the trash can.

Next he found a campaign photograph of Harvey Dent, another copy of the one Bane had torn up outside of Blackgate. He leaned back with a sigh. He had failed Dent. If he had stayed with him, had stopped the Joker from preying on his mind, his victims wouldn't have died, Gordon's family wouldn't have been terrorized, and the Dent Act travesty never would have passed.

He shook his head. It was past time to look beyond that catalogue of failures. He couldn't bring back the dead, but maybe he could finally convince the politicians to repeal that horrible Dent Act. After all, nobody returned to Blackgate would qualify for parole within their lifetimes after the Occupation. He jotted down a note about that and set Harvey's photograph aside.

A small velvet box inside the larger box hit his hand. He stared at the modest emerald earrings and remembered he meant to send them to Natasha and forgot about it dealing with the Joker. He should ask Selina if they'd make a good gift for Stephanie or Jen. He set the box down on the desk and pulled out an eight-by-ten picture frame.

Rachel looked back at him. It wasn't the picture he had at the Manor next to his parents. That was one her mother had picked out for her funeral. This picture he took back when he was on break from Princeton and she had finished her accelerated law school classes. She had wanted something artsy for the announcements. They had found an old, wall-sized mirror in the Manor and used it as a prop. Bruce loved how this photograph turned out, sexy and serious with her blue spaghetti-strapped dress and her confident smirk, and kept it on his desk.

He missed her. She should be here: trading pregnancy secrets with Selina, teasing him for offering Selina a job, telling Stephanie to call her Aunt Rachel. Now that she was free from being his one chance at a normal life, his guilt over failing her had eased and let him miss his best friend who had tried to understand him and loved the part of him that she had.

"I know your name is on the building," Selina said as she opened the library door, "and the show is limited to locals and National Guard troops this year, but we still have to get to Wayne Tower." She strutted to his desk wearing dark jeans and a familiar black sweater that swallowed her. "I knew you weren't working on your speech."

"I was until I got sick of it." She tugged the picture frame and he let it go. "That's Rachel."

She looked at the photograph with a blank expression. He wondered what she was trying to hide from him. "The infamous Rachel, nice dress," she said.

"Infamous?"

"In this group at least." She pushed the desk lamp aside and perched on the desk.

"You've seen her before. Nikolai Ondrejko's fingerprints were on her picture at the Manor."

She chuckled. "If you had been a normal reclusive billionaire, those would have confused the police for weeks. Still if you're going to set up a shrine in here, you better take a picture of me now before I get all fat."

"You're volunteering because I have a photograph of the infamous Rachel on my desk?"

"I'm not trying to be derogatory. She earned your loyalty, so an adjective seems called for."

He dropped his teasing tone. "We shared so much. It isn't right that she's not here. She should be the one to hold our baby once Alfred releases him or her."

"Really?" Her blank mask was back.

Bruce stood, cupped her head, and pulled her into a kiss. He leaned back to breathe. "You've got no reason to be jealous of Rachel's memory."

"Feel free to demonstrate that any time you have the urge." Her brown eyes looked through her long eyelashes at him.

He kissed her again for looking at him like that. "I'm taking a photo of you for my desk as soon as I find a camera." He took back the picture frame.

"You need to get through your speech first, then worry about decorating." She twisted and picked up his printout. She read over it. "Okay, problem number one, don't bring up the Dent Act, that will confuse everyone. Problem number two, you don't know the difference between a speech and a street brawl."

He scowled since Selina wasn't put off by it. "I'm not lying to the people of Gotham. They've been lied to enough."

"There's a big difference between lying, sugar-coating, and beating them into submission with words."

"Lucius said I was too blunt."

"Lucius' edits are too much sugar-coating even if he is right. You need to tell people the same thing you told me. Why you started ignoring the details."

The internal recoil to that idea jerked up his chin. "That's personal."

"It's the best way to woo them into following the Prince of Gotham City."

"I've always hated that title."

Selina slid off the desk and leaned over him. "I know. But Gotham has a history of being ruled behind the scenes. If you don't do it, a power-hungry asshole will fill the vacuum and then we'll all be in trouble."

Bruce pulled her onto his lap. "You know they will cast you as my Cinderella."

"As long as we know who saved who."

He shifted his arms around her before he kissed her. A small foot stomped at the door. "We're never gonna see fireworks if you just stay here kissing," Stephanie said.

"We're coming." Selina got off his lap. "Do you have your sweater and coat?"

"Wearing my sweater." Stephanie tugged on the colorful, winter-themed one she had on. "Alfred has all the coats by the elevator."

"Okay, Bruce needs to put on his sweater and then we can go."

He stood up and pulled his blue sweater off the back of his chair. "Is that my sweater you're wearing?"

She smirked. "I liked it better than mine."

Alfred pressed a full picnic basket on them as they put on their coats. "The event is different for those with backstage access."

"Bruce told me we get bathrooms," Selina grinned.

"Indeed, but refreshments are not available and Miss Stephanie is liable to get hungry before the show begins."

"Are you sure you don't want to come, Alfred?" Bruce zipped his leather coat.

"I can see the fireworks fine from right here, sir. And I'll have hot cocoa ready when you return."

Selina drove the silver Lexus SUV they had bought when Blake returned the car he had commandeered. "I don't think I realized how many tourists came out for this until this year. Driving has never been this easy."

"I haven't been in years," Bruce admitted. Since the year after his parents died, when he discovered he hated the crowd focused on the richest orphan in America.

They parked a couple of blocks away in a parking garage reserved for workers and participants in the ball drop show. A National Guard soldier bore down on them as they unloaded. "You're not authorized to park here." His hand hovered over his sidearm.

Stephanie cringed against his chest as he lifted her out of her car seat. "The Wayne family is authorized to be here," Bruce answered as he kept the child in his arms shielded. "Do you need to see I.D.?"

"Here comes someone who can probably vouch for us." Selina nodded at a long-legged, young man striding toward them. She turned enough to be unthreatening, but her grip was tight on the basket's handle to swing it as a weapon.

"Mr. Wayne!" The badge clipped to the young man's jacket read Steve. "Mr. Strauss was afraid you decided not to come." Steve led them away from the disgruntled soldier and down a path created with metal barricades down sidewalks and across intersections. Wayne Square was on the west side of Wayne Tower, so they didn't have to postpone the ball drop thanks to the damage the bomb truck did on the south side of the building. The barricade path ended behind the screens erected to block behind the stage and a check point where another intern let them pass.

Selina pressed closer to him once they were backstage and stepped out of the way of the man dragging electrical wire. "I'm glad I never wanted to go into show business."

"It's not normally this crazy." A pot-bellied man with thinning red hair handed a clipboard to Steve and stretched his hand out to Bruce. "Of course you would pick the year that we had no time to plan to end your boycott."

Bruce shook it while holding Stephanie. "I promised Stephanie fireworks. Selina, this is Jeff Strauss, he puts on the ball drop ceremony. "Strauss, Selina Kyle."

"And I've enjoyed every one I've been to." Selina shook Strauss' hand.

He laughed. "I like you, Ms. Kyle. We've got an area set up for you, but it's got the heater so people will be in and out to get warm." He led them around the stage to a couple of beat-up sofas under a tall patio heater. A couple of teenagers got up and faded away. Strauss shook his head. "If you can shoo them back to their jobs after they've thawed out that would be a big help. I gotta go feed the ego of the show's volunteer entertainment."

"We'll stay out of the way." Bruce set Stephanie on her feet as Strauss left them. "Are you all right?"

"So many people." She peeked around the end of the sofa.

"Stay close to me and Bruce so you don't get stepped on," Selina said.

"That's not funny."

Bruce bit back his smile. He split his attention between watching their surroundings, Stephanie, and pondering what Selina had told him about his speech. He trusted her viewpoint and her ideas on how to fix the speech.

Celebrities drifted in and out of the backstage rest area, not that Bruce recognized them personally. He knew the signs of fawning from the workers. He let Selina take the lead since she knew their music. But they all knew him and commented on his saving the ball drop show got them to volunteer their talents after harrowing stays in the Dungeon or surviving by hiding. He admired one rapper's strategy when Bane's Army and disgruntled people showed up on his doorstep; he invited them in for a party. "I'll never replace all that booze, but it beat the Dungeon, dog."

He left to perform and Selina turned to Bruce. "Fess up. Why do they keep saying you saved the show?"

"Strauss has been giving me too much credit. I just accessed one of the offshore accounts and gave the Wayne Square Alliance a donation for the fireworks."

"You never were as broke as the news reports claimed."

"In their defense, I didn't save it under my name." And when the light bursts reflected in Stephanie's delighted eyes, he didn't resent the credit at all.

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 14

Fox double-checked his note cards as he stood in the anteroom of Wayne Enterprises public conference room. The door to the hallway opened, and Bruce ushered Selina and Stephanie inside. "Brought Alfred too?" Fox asked.

"Stephanie doesn't like staying at the penthouse with Alfred," Bruce said.

"You don't think we make a nice showing of moral support?" Selina smirked, but her chic black dress and jacket matched Bruce's severe black business suit. Stephanie's mauve dress matched Bruce's tie and she wore a black cardigan over it.

"We need more chairs on the stage," Fox replied.

"They're staying back here." Bruce nodded at the muted television already turned to the closed circuit channel for the conference room. "You'll be able to see me make a fool out of myself."

"Please, we all know you only make a fool out of yourself on purpose." Selina's hand grazed Bruce's before she headed to the couch in front of the television set. "It won't cause feedback or anything to turn the sound on?"

Fox shook his head. "This room is soundproofed. Ready, Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce gave a curt nod. Fox already felt sorry for the reporter who asked the wrong question. They closed the door behind them and looked over the sea of faces and cameras, television and photograph. He strode to the podium at the front of the stage while Bruce sat on the stage to his left in one of the two chairs placed there.

"Thank you all for coming. Wayne Enterprises was in the news prior to the Occupation concerning the ouster of then president Bruce Wayne. The SEC proved fraud on Mr. Wayne's behalf and Wayne Enterprises' Board of Directors reinstated him as CEO last Friday. Now I'm turning the announcements over to Mr. Wayne."

They exchanged places and Fox focused on Bruce. Bruce swore Selina helped him knock the rough edges of what he had planned to say. Now was the moment of truth. The reporters all focused on Bruce; most of them were used to Wayne Enterprises announcements being handled by Fox or Fredericks.

"Thank you, Mr. Fox," Bruce started firmly. "Eight years ago, I steered Wayne Enterprises to build a fusion nuclear reactor, what in many circles was decried as a save-the-world vanity project. It wasn't for me though; it was for the people of Gotham. My father," he paused for a wry expression. "People tell me he partied more than I did until my mother focused him on charity. I knew him after he built the elevated rail system for the city. I wanted to give Gotham clean, safe, and inexpensive energy because of the example Thomas Wayne set for me. The city has been good to my family, and everyone deserves that same fortune. Miranda Tate invested in the reactor project as well."

The reporters stirred at the mention of the briefly-tenured CEO. Bruce let them settle again. "I shuttered the reactor project when Dr. Pavel's paper on how to weaponize the design was published and decided the best thing I could do for Gotham was to let it be. I am sorry," Bruce paused to swallow hard, "sorrier than I can put into words that we did not dismantle it entirely. Since I didn't, all Bane had to do was organize a takeover of Wayne Enterprises and steal it. Miranda Tate, who I trusted because of her involvement with the project, was part of his terrorist group."

"Can that be confirmed?" A reporter on the front row interrupted.

"Commissioner Gordon gave us permission to inform the public before his press conference tomorrow. He will have more details about the investigation. The people of Gotham deserve the truth. This is an ugly truth and one I deeply regret, but I still believe in Gotham City. Wayne Enterprises is moving forward on rebuilding it. Our building crews reported two days ago to the Department of Public Works and started repairs to the Downtown infrastructure and bridges destroyed during the Occupation. We are also in talks with supplying the police department with the non-lethal weapons that ended the siege in Grant with no loss of life. Manufacturing will be done in Gotham, creating new jobs for all sectors of the economy." Bruce fanned his cards before tucking them into his jacket. "That's all I have, ladies and gentlemen. Any questions?"

"Can you give us any more details on this deal with the police department?" Vicky Vale asked.

"Of course, once we have a signed contract."

"As one of the few companies functioning in Gotham City, do you have any plans for any mergers?"

"Not at this current time."

Another reporter lifted his digital recorder. "Mr. Wayne, you eluded to your mother's influence on your father's behavior. Is the mysterious brunette spotted in your company recently responsible for the change in yours?"

Bruce's posture didn't change from what Fox could see. "No more questions. Have a nice day, everyone, and thank you for coming." He turned from the podium and Fox met him at the door into the anteroom. The younger man waited until the door shut between them and the reporters. "That went well."

"Better than I expected," Fox admitted, "especially considering the last question."

"Speculation about my private life will not be tolerated at business functions."

"You may have been a bit too subtle with your displeasure with that," Selina said from the couch.

"I'll repeat myself until it sinks in," Bruce said. "Ready to move me into my office?"

"Sure, let's get the staff gossiping now." Selina took Stephanie's hand as they headed to the door that bypassed the public foyer.

Fox followed after them with a small smile on his face. _Tom, if you could see your son now._


	12. Chapter Twelve

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 17

Selina took a deep breath and slipped off the armchair. Alfred and Bruce were bickering in the closet, loud enough to be heard in the master suite. "If you would just give me some perimeters, sir, I could start the preliminary research."

"It's a wedding, not a military operation."

"When have you not treated your socializing like a military operation, Master Wayne?"

Selina glanced at one of the wedding gown catalogues Alfred had found somewhere and placed on all the side tables where Selina liked to sit. She had not cracked one open yet. It wasn't that she didn't want to cooperate with the wedding Bruce had always wanted, but she had nothing to contribute and couldn't decide on anything when she was still in status unknown mode. Her cell phone buzzed against her hip. Meet at Thain St. Park within the hour. She recognized the number sending the text message. Maybe she could finally cross wanted felon/person-of-interest off her worries column. Alfred was detailing the work needed to entertain guests at the Manor, much less move into it. She crept out of the master suite and down the hall.

Stephanie pretended to cook at her kitchen. Her Cabbage Patch doll sat in a doll high chair. "Hey, would it ruin your meal to go to the park with me?" Selina asked.

She picked up the pan from the stove and put it in the over. "Nope. Let's go to the swings." She followed Selina's quiet lead to the coat closet and into the elevator. "Are we sneaking out?"

"We're sneaking away from wedding fights." Selina dialed Bruce's cell phone when the elevator reached the halfway point down the building. "Stephanie and I are going to Thain Street Park for a while."

"I'm working from home today. The stack of messages Alfred gave me yesterday? They're from tenants of my properties."

"I'll help you when we get back."

"Take your time. We'll still have to track down the tenants who contacted me."

Today was sunny without a cloud in the sky. The scheduled bus pulled away from the corner as Stephanie ran for the swing sets. Selina sat on a bench and watched the children swarm over the jungle gym. More people than usual were out today, but it was less than pre-Occupation. At least the children didn't look as haunted as the adults.

A heavy-set African-American woman sat on the bench next to Selina. "Hello again, Ms. Kyle."

"Hello, Dr. Waller. So I'm on the payroll?"

"Indeed, welcome to Cadmus." Dr. Waller handed Selina two thick accordion folders. "Oh, and congratulations on locating the CleanSlate program. We took the liberty of setting up new identities for you and your sister. I was surprised you hadn't done that for yourself after you wiped everything clean."

Selina opened the top accordion folder and pulled out a new driver's license, social security card, and passport. But she never ran CleanSlate on herself. She smiled; Bruce must have and then forgot to tell her. She was going to tease the hell out of him for that. "My pregnancy and impending marriage isn't an issue with this job offer, is it?"

Dr. Waller chuckled. "Frankly, we couldn't craft a cover so perfect for you than what your romantic entanglements have developed. Mr. Wayne will keep your secrets and we can trust him to save the day if it needs saving." She smiled slightly. "But it's best not to talk about that. Hopefully, you'll never have to lean on him like that."

"I'd rather not. It's my career after all."

"There is one complication from your previous career that we were unable to clear up. A FBI agent is investigating Congressman Gilly's kidnapping. He had already departed the office by the time we got into Gotham City."

Selina replaced her old driver's license with the new one and slid her wallet back into her jacket. "The charges have been dropped?"

"Yes, but he can detain you on suspicion or annoy Mr. Wayne into doing something foolish."

Selina's cell phone buzzed with an incoming text message. Hide. FBI looking for you.

"Like obstructing a federal investigation," Dr. Waller added.

"I'm new to the whole steady employment gig, but I really think I should invite you home for some tea."

"Before your fiancé assaults a federal agent? I'd be delighted to accept."

* * *

Bruce shifted the jewelry store catalogue off the legal pad while Henri the chef-owner of the Ocelot reached a new octave in the woes of the Occupation. Alfred needed to lay off the visual aids for his passive-aggressive reminders. It was hard enough keeping the paperwork straight without advertisements for wedding gowns and rings cluttering his library desk. "Of course, you weren't open during the Occupation and you don't have any revenue. I'm not going to enforce the lease consequences for late rent. Yes, I will get you something in writing. Thank you for calling." He made a note on the pad and looked up at Alfred in the doorway. "Five calls returned, and so far the tenants have two concerns: the property is ruined and how soon will you fix it or are you charging rent? I'm certain someone will have both issues at once or give me a third concern before I finish."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but an Agent Edward Nigma is here to see Miss Selina. Federal Bureau of Investigations."

Bruce pulled out his cell phone and texted a warning to Selina. "I had hoped they wouldn't come."

"It is just one, sir. Do you wish to see him up here?" Bruce shook his head and adjusted his shirt's cuffs. "Very well, sir."

He headed down the staircase and Alfred vanished elsewhere in the penthouse. The man in a cheap, navy suit turned from the window near the television area. He seemed about Bruce's age, but his blonde-streaked hair and the stubble goatee were both butting up to the limits of FBI regulations. "Hello Agent Nigma, I'm Bruce Wayne. How can I help you?"

Nigma sat in the armchair Bruce waved at. "Where is Ms. Kyle?"

"She took Stephanie out." Bruce sat on the couch. "I'm sorry; I thought you were here to ask about the reactor."

"Not my case, but it looks like Commissioner Gordon has that wrapped up." This was when other interrogators would pull out notes to consult. Agent Nigma's blue eyes focused through Bruce. "Back on September sixteenth of last year, you hosted a Wayne Foundation fundraiser at your mansion, but did not attend yourself."

"That's correct."

His eyebrows knitted together behind his black-framed eyeglasses. "Why throw a party and not go to it?"

"I have no idea why the FBI needs to know that, but Harvey Dent was a friend and I don't approve of the politicizing of his death. But people feel generous on Dent Day and the Wayne Foundation can use that money for the city." Bruce leaned back.

Nigma blinked at him. "That doesn't explain your disappearing for seven years."

"Now I know the FBI isn't investigating that."

The agent frowned as he shook his head. "Congressman Gilly didn't return home from your event, but left with Ms. Kyle instead. She wasn't on the guest list and there was an extra maid the catering staff can't account for. Do you have any idea what she was doing in your mansion before she coerced the Congressman into leaving with her?"

"Would you believe we decided to play William Tell?"

"Maybe you don't take my investigation serious, Mr. Wayne." Nigma's hands clenched into fists on his thighs. "Or maybe associating with Selina Kyle is igniting all your wild-life passions. But her file is thick with victims, male victims. How long will you disappear after she makes a fool out of you?"

Bruce stared at Nigma, letting the good humor toleration bleed from his face. "We're done. I'm sorry I couldn't help you further, Agent Nigma."

"We're done when I say we're done, Mr. Wayne." He leaned back and relaxed his fingers. "First, there was your Dent Day event, second, you two were spotted at Miranda Tate's fundraiser on September eighteenth, third, the Stock Exchange Attack occurred and she was with you on your trip to Gotham First National Bank, fourth, Occupation derailed the city, and now the two of you emerge from hiding together and have been inseparable since. What are you trying to pull over the city?"

"So which am I, Selina's partner or Selina's victim?"

"I didn't say that."

"If you want to continue making insinuations like that, you'll do so with my attorney present." Bruce stood to pull his cell phone from his pocket when the main elevator's arrival dinged.

Alfred met the women as the door slid open. "Alfred, I invited Dr. Waller to tea." Selina passed him something with her coat before squatting to unbutton Stephanie's. "We got boring grown-up talking to do. Can you go play in your room?"

"Sure." She skipped to the second elevator without seeing Agent Nigma stand.

Bruce's hand tightened on his phone as he forced himself to breathe evenly. This wasn't hiding. He also didn't recognize the older African-American woman in a tweed dress and jacket who looked around the penthouse detachedly.

Selina smiled at him as she led her guest across the penthouse to the seats. "Bruce, I'd like you to meet Dr. Amanda Waller, director of the Cadmus Project. Dr. Waller, my fiancé Bruce Wayne."

"Fiancé?" Nigma demanded as he glared at Bruce.

"You never asked why Selina and I were now inseparable." Bruce shook Dr. Waller's outstretched hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise, Mr. Wayne." Her handshake was firm.

Nigma moved to get around the armchairs should Selina run. "I'm Agent Edward Nigma and you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Congressman Byron Gilly."

Selina sighed like she felt sorry for the FBI agent and Bruce's hand went back into his pocket for his cell phone. "What's your security clearance, Agent Nigma?" she asked.

"Security clearance?"

Dr. Waller sat in the armchair Nigma just vacated, forcing the agent to step further aside. "Ms. Kyle was deep undercover to infiltrate Bane's organization for Cadmus."

Nigma's eyes darted from each of them as his frown deepened.

Selina brushed against Bruce and tugged him to sit beside her on the couch. He released the cell phone and put his arm along the couch's back behind her. "They wanted a thief to steal Bruce's fingerprints," she explained. "Bruce nearly caught me in the job, so I had to make a quick getaway. Congressman Gilly wanted an adulterous assignation. He made an easy mark for a getaway and insurance if Bane's group turned on me. Which they did, and he was shot by them."

"Congressman Gilly is being briefed on the situation and the charges have been dropped," Dr. Waller said.

"But you ended up here with him," Nigma said. His head jerked to Bruce. "I suppose this is the first you've heard of Cadmus."

"It is," Bruce admitted. "But I knew Selina wasn't working for Bane when I hired her to help me get my shares back."

"A wanted thief?"

"Bane's group had targeted Bruce, so I thought staying with him would accomplish the goal," Selina said to Dr. Waller. "Unfortunately, Bane moved first."

"You did the best you could, Ms. Kyle. Is there anything else, Agent Nigma?" Dr. Waller looked at him.

"Not pertaining to the investigation, no." He answered as his hands curled into fists.

Alfred set a laden tea tray on the side table between Selina and Dr. Waller. "I'll show you out, sir."

Selina poured the steaming beverage as the elevator doors opened and shut. "I think I'm going to enjoy working for you, Dr. Waller." She passed her the first cup.

"Indeed, I'm most impressed with your improvisational skills." Dr. Waller sipped her tea.

"So Selina works for you now?" Bruce accepted the tea cup Selina passed to him. "What will her job duties entail?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Wayne. Any assignment we give Ms. Kyle will take into consideration her pregnancy and her marital status."

Bruce nodded. He didn't have an issue with whatever Selina had set up for her post life of crime career that she had alluded to.

"Of course, if Mr. Malone wanted to keep an eye on her, we could find a place for him." Dr. Waller's brown eyes peered over the teacup at Bruce.

How did she know about that? "Mr. Malone hasn't been heard from for many years."

"Lost touch with him after Bhutan? A pity, he would be a useful recruit." She set her teacup on the tray. "Keep it in mind if you see him again. Now I must go. Ms. Kyle, we'll be in touch."

Selina walked her to the elevator where Alfred waited with a black wool coat. "Of course, thank you for everything."

"And thank you for tea."

Alfred sighed as the elevator descended. "Should we expect any more federal officials to drop by unannounced?"

"Not on my account," Selina said as she rejoined Bruce. "Now maybe you'll believe me when I say I'm not worried about something, Mr. Wipe-away-my-existence-with-CleanSlate." She picked up a scone from the tray.

Bruce half smiled. "I meant to tell you, but you agreed to celebrate the baby, and then we've been busy ever since." Selina smirked at him while she chewed. He better spill something to make up for it. "Matches Malone was my alias when I got imprisoned in Bhutan."

"Matches?"

"Because my temper always flared up."

The door at the top of the staircase opened. "Are you finished with grown-up talk?" Stephanie asked. "I want a cookie."

"We're done, come get a cookie." Selina held out a scone.

Stephanie scampered down the stairs with a large children's book. She held the book up after she snatched the scone from Selina's hand. "Read?"

"I will. Bruce needs to start calling people again." Selina took the book so Stephanie could climb into the armchair. Bruce reached around her for a scone. He needed it just thinking about those phone calls. " _B is for Bulldozer_ ," she read before turning to the first page.

He paused mid-chew as Selina read the entries for A and B. Of the phone calls he had made, more tenants had complained about the damages done to Bruce's buildings. "I need a construction company."

Selina looked up from the book. "What's working on all the bridges?"

"Those are Wayne Enterprises construction crews. I need a construction crew to repair the buildings I own." He stood, kissed Selina's lips, and dropped a kiss on the top Stephanie's head. "I've got calls to make."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've mentioned before how I stopped following the DC Animated Universe when they changed _Batman_ animation to match _Superman_. When _Justice League_ came along, I equated the art as more of the same _Superman_ art and didn't watch. (I have since worked on watching more of it once I learned that everything ties together and develops into _Batman Beyond_.) Fast forward to 2011 and the _Green Lantern_ movie--my father picked it out for our Father's Day movie--I took the opportunity to berate Hollywood beauty standards after it. "Nothing against Angela Bassett, I love her, but she's not Waller. Waller's nickname is the Wall for crying out loud. The actress who plays Mrs. Frederic on _Warehouse 13_ , she would have made a perfect Dr. Waller!"
> 
> So imagine my dumbfoundment when I brushed up on my Amanda Waller research for this story and found out CCH Pounder was Waller's voice actress in DCAU. I swear if my brain is connected to Bruce Timm's I'm not really profiting from it.
> 
> And this chapter brings up the DC characters featured or mentioned to five, not counting the ones I mentioned back in the _One Rule_. Have you caught them all?


	13. Chapter Thirteen

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 18

Alfred headed down the hallway to the master suite. Selina, wrapped in Bruce's robe, met him. Her color was healthy this morning. Taking Stephanie out to the park everyday was doing her good as well. "Good morning, Miss."

"Morning, Alfred. Bruce is shaving."

"Thank you, Miss." He turned to the master bathroom. Bruce had finished shaving and now brushed his teeth. "That was Mr. Lorry on the telephone. He said he was able to satisfactorily complete the project you dropped in his lap yesterday and the papers are ready for you to sign."

Bruce spat out the mouth foam. "That was accepted quicker than anticipated. Maybe my offer was too good."

Mr. Lorry hadn't been concerned about the business deal. "He also asked me to talk some sense into you about structuring the settlement with a pre-nuptial agreement."

The comb paused in Bruce's hair. "You didn't tell him...."

"I didn't have to." Alfred stared into the reflection's eyes. "Mr. Lorry is an intelligent man and Miss Selina has been your constant companion lately." Bruce nodded and turned to his clothing. "Why don't you take the opportunity and make a formal announcement of the engagement? Miss Selina's legal status is no longer a concern."

"I want to announce it after I get her a ring." He glanced at Alfred's frown. "I've been looking, but the jewelry stores were looted. Did Lorry say anything about the loan at Gotham First National?"

"He made sure it was paid off when he opened the new account, but they misplaced your collateral. The looters did not get into the safe deposit boxes, so the rest of the jewelry is still there. Including your mother's engagement ring."

Bruce's face darkened before he looked down and tucked his shirt into his pants. "I want something symbolic of us, no baggage. Shame about Aunt Helena's emeralds; I wanted to see Selina wear them."

That sounded reasonable, but Alfred was too accustomed to Bruce's rehearsed excuses. "Your parents had a lovely wedding ceremony at the Manor."

"If we move back to the Manor now, it will look like I'm giving up on Gotham again. That's not acceptable."

_How convenient._ Alfred didn't voice his dissent while he held up the grey suit jacket for Bruce to slide into. Selina's voice answered Stephanie's question from the walk-in closet around the north corner of the master suite. Alfred headed to the kitchen to finish breakfast preparations. Bruce continued to the library, which he was turning into his home office.

Alfred typed 'wedding venues in Gotham City' into his WayneTech tablet's search function while he readied their plates. They had to pick one so he could begin preparations, and time was running out. What if the venue had other obligations? Selina and Stephanie came down the elevator before the list was compiled. "What lovely matching outfits," Alfred said. They both wore purple sweaters with blue jeans.

"My idea," Stephanie said as she climbed onto a stool.

"A clever idea." Alfred set their plates before them. "What are the plans for today? Shopping for Miss Selina's trousseau, perhaps?"

Selina's eyes widened as her fork froze. "My what?"

Before Alfred could define the term, the elevator chimed that someone wanted to enter the penthouse. "I got it," Bruce called from the stairs. He set down his briefcase on the closest chaise lounge around the fireplace. One couldn't hear his conversation over the intercom and he stayed put until the elevator doors opened. "You caught us at breakfast, Dr. Thompkins." Bruce ushered the older woman to the kitchen area.

Alfred nearly dropped Bruce's plate seeing her again. "Leslie Thompkins?"

"Alfred Pennyworth," she laughed. "I should have guessed you were back when he didn't come to me to have his sutures out." She sat next to Bruce and pointed at him with her thumb.

"The external stitches were ready to come out, Doctor," he hastened to reassure her.

"And judging by his scar tissue, he's given you plenty of practice."

"He makes a mess of it every time he sews himself back together."

Bruce turned to Selina. "I'm less inclined to take it easy until the end of the month now."

"Yeah, no, I'm not dealing with you having internal hemorrhaging. Besides, aren't you offering Jessica a promotion today?"

"Among other things," Bruce said.

"Just coffee, thank you, Alfred. I've already eaten." He set the plate back down as Leslie turned to Bruce. "I saw your speech, the same day I got your ridiculously absurd check."

"Which you still haven't cashed. I asked Blake what your payment scale is."

"Don't change the subject," Leslie said. "Why didn't you answer the question about Selina?"

He drained his coffee cup, but Leslie didn't avert her stare. "I wasn't about to let my personal life overshadow Wayne Enterprises again. We'll put an announcement in the Gotham Times like normal people do."

"And when will that be?"

"I don't know. Selina hasn't even picked out a dress."

Leslie leaned around Bruce to hit the younger woman with her disapproving stare. "It's your wedding dress. Those stores weren't looted."

"I don't know what kind of dress to get," Selina answered while shooting eye daggers at Bruce. "It depends on what we do. You don't wear a ball gown to a beach."

"You want a beach wedding?" Alfred asked. The best beaches were south of Gotham City and Bludhaven or northeast in Martha's Vineyard, but it would be months before the weather would be preferable for an event.

"No, I was just giving an example."

"Honestly, you two are acting like you don't want to get married," Leslie said.

"That's not true," Bruce said.

"You're keeping her a secret and not planning anything for the wedding. You want to prove to Gotham you've changed?"

Bruce didn't say anything to Leslie as he got up from the dining bar and made sure his briefcase was packed. Selina bristled. "It's our wedding, not entertainment for Gotham City."

Alfred sighed. "It will be viewed that way regardless of how you and Master Wayne feel about the matter." Her face blanched as she stared at Alfred.

Leslie turned on the stool so Bruce couldn't miss what she said. "Your mother and father had their wedding planned and completed two months after they were engaged, and that was considered scandalously fast. But they also didn't have a child on the way that will need legal protection."

"We have at least twenty-one weeks before we have to worry about that," Selina answered.

"Which will be over before you know it if you don't at least pick a venue," Alfred said, letting his exasperation show.

"The most appropriate setting would be the top of Police Headquarters next to the Batsignal," Bruce said just as heatedly before the elevator doors slid shut on him.

"Good lord, what kind of dress would be appropriate for that?" Leslie asked.

"I never thought he would put his own wedding in the pile of things he doesn't give a damn about." Alfred shook his head as he picked up the dishes.

"It looks like he's leaving it all to you, Selina." Leslie cradled her coffee cup.

"Bruce didn't kiss you." Stephanie tugged on Selina's sleeve.

Alfred wiped his hands and passed Selina his tablet. "Just pick a venue, Miss, and we can work out the details from there."

She frowned at the selection the search showed. "These churches are huge."

"You have to accommodate everyone who will turn out for a Wayne wedding," Leslie said. "It's the closest thing America has to the Royal Family circus."

Selina's eyebrows shot up and Alfred started soothing. "We won't divide the guest list into bride or groom's side." Comments were made last night during supper how her sister couldn't return to Gotham because the commercial flights hadn't resumed yet.

"Bruce always kisses you bye-bye. Why didn't he kiss you just now?"

"We gotta go." Selina's eyes watered as she put the tablet down and lifted Stephanie off the stool. "Come on, sweetie."

"We're going shopping?" Selina didn't answer Stephanie as she got their coats.

"What time will you be back?" Alfred asked. Selina ignored that question too as she hustled Stephanie into the elevator. He sighed again as it descended. "Perhaps you're right and they don't see a point to being married." He poured more coffee in Leslie's cup.

"I suppose you could plan it like you did all his other parties and tell him to show up or else."

"I'm afraid lately he hasn't bothered with the attending part. I had hoped to keep him involved to counteract that." He shook his head. "Enough about that, how have you been? Still working at your clinic, I understand?"

* * *

Bruce dialed the phone number he had looked up on Selina's cell phone contact list. He leaned back in his office chair as it was answered. "Jen? This is Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce? Is Selina okay?"

"She's fine, nothing's wrong. I just wanted your help surprising her. Are you ready to come back to Gotham?"

"I'm on first name basis with everyone at the Munich airport I'm so ready to get back. Stupid rules on commercial flights."

Jessica entered his officer and set two folders on his desk. He waved at her to stay. "I have a private plane bringing in supplies for Wayne Enterprises. If you could pick up some Cocoa Puffs for Stephanie, she'll be your new best friend." He gave Jen the details for the airplane before saying good-bye and turning to the folders. "What is this?"

"Both from Legal," Jessica answered. "The green folder is the proposal and contract for the police department. The blue one is from Mr. Lorry. And I didn't schedule the private meeting he wants for today like he suggested."

Bruce opened that folder and slid a set of keys into his hand before signing the tagged pages. "Thank you for that. I have no idea how long the meeting with the Commissioner will last."

"You won't be able to hold him at bay forever, Mr. Wayne. He knows where you live and work."

"I will talk to him, but after I finish other business. Did you ever finish your degree in Human Resources?"

Jessica tilted her head. "I'm a few hours short from my Master's. Why?"

"Do you think you can finish it while working as Director of Operations?"

"That's the new position for Mr. Fredericks' successor." She sank into one of the visitor chairs in front of Bruce.

"Mr. Fredericks wants you, and I agree. Everyone says you were holding everything and everyone together during the Occupation. I want whoever eventually takes over as Vice-President of Operations to be promoted from Wayne Enterprises, not an outsider hired in." Bruce smiled. "Take some time to think about it, and talk to Mr. Fredericks. Lucius and I will need you to find suitable assistants to fill your place here."

"I will, Mr. Wayne, thank you."

Bruce continued to smile as she left his office in daze. He slipped both folders into his briefcase and bundled up against the cold. He pulled the address out of his pocket. It was on the way to City Hall. At least Blake's hints concerning the wedding had practical help.

The open sign was written on a piece of paper with a Sharpie and taped to the glass door of the showroom of Moench Jewelers. The smashed counter had been repaired with plywood so it could still function as a counter. The display cases hanging from the wall were at least three decades older in style, but were stocked with low-cost finery. The turquoise necklace hanging on the back wall was the exception. The bright blue stones were arranged in a long chain in pairs until it reached the horseshoe-shaped pendent. That piece was worthy of its price tag based on the size and quality of the stones.

"That is the best merchandise I have on display." An older, male Hasidic Jew stepped through the doorway behind the cash register. "It's one of a kind for Gotham City; I have an exclusive deal with the artist."

"Actually I need to buy an engagement ring, Mr. Moench," Bruce said.

"No diamonds until I hire a new buyer or the police find what was stolen by the looters."

"I don't think diamonds will impress her. She calls them traveling money."

Moench threw back his head as he roared with laughter. "I like your girlfriend. Sounds like she hasn't been brainwashed by De Beers. Wait here." He vanished into the back room and returned with a small tray of rings. "These are the rings the looters left me with."

Most were plain silver or gold bands with small colored stones. The largest stone was a turquoise carved into a rose, lovely, but not for Selina.

The second largest was a green cat's eye chrysoberyl with tiny diamonds clustered around it. The white luster stripe that gave the stone its name ran down the center and it was set in gold. Bruce removed it to get a closer look at the band.

"Very fine, old ring, 1890, fifteen thousand."

"I'm surprised the looters left it behind with the diamonds on it."

Moench snorted. "Amateurs with no idea what stones are really worth. Does it suit your girlfriend?"

"I think it does. No one knows what she's worth either." Bruce handed it over to the owner to box up. "And the turquoise necklace. It will look lovely on her."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"I've studied your career, Commissioner Gordon." Agent Nigma perched on the edge of the leather sofa in Gordon's borrowed City Hall office. "You were a detective before you were promoted. You're not a politician; you know how it feels to solve a mystery."

Gordon chocked back his sigh. Working with the FBI was bad enough, but this wasn't work. He gave Nigma this appointment because the agent had helped the resistance when others hid, and he wished the agent would get to the point.

"Don't you want to know who he was? Doesn't the city deserve to know who saved them?"

"They know. It was the Batman."

Nigma's lips twisted. "What about Catwoman and Nightwing? You trust the lives of your men to them?"

Gordon smirked. "Nightwing works better with the police than Batman did. I'm not about to rip his mask off and ruin that. And no one has seen Catwoman since the War for Gotham."

"She beat that child molester after."

"And no one has seen her since," Gordon repeated. "I think she's earned her retirement."

Nigma leaned forward. "What about the rumor in Blackgate? That Bane had Batman and Catwoman prisoner during the Occupation?"

"Criminals need an explanation just like you do." Nigma sat up, but someone knocked on the office door. "Come in," Gordon said.

Montoya stuck her head inside. "Ms. Kyle is here to see you."

Nigma jumped to his feet. "I'd rather not give her a reason to feed me to Waller. I wasn't here about her at all. Is there another way out?"

Gordon was tempted to point to the boarded up window, but Montoya spoke up. "They're at the elevators. She brought Stephanie with her. Stairs are that way." The officer pointed down the hallway that turned the corner.

The FBI agent scurried that way while Gordon blocked the hallway. He didn't know or care what was going on between Nigma and Selina or who this Waller person was. Montoya shook her head and headed back to the elevators. "This way, Ms. Kyle."

Selina walked down the hall with her agitation barely contained by her skin. She paused to look at Montoya. "Could you?" Her head jerked down.

Montoya smiled at Stephanie. "I need your help, Stephanie. We got coloring books, but I don't know if they are any good."

"I'll check them out. Is that okay?" The little girl looked up at Selina.

Selina gave her a watery smile. "That's fine. I'll be down here with the Commissioner, in the same office they kept Fox in." They separated and Gordon ushered the distracted Selina into his office. "Sorry to interrupt your working hours, but you should make Montoya a detective. She's better than a mere secretary."

"There's a volunteer pool while we work out personnel issues." Gordon shut the door. "She's on my short list. What's wrong?"

She paced the office. "I need to talk wedding shit with somebody and I realized I don't have anyone to talk it over with!"

"Nobody else? I thought your doctor was a friend."

"She picked Alfred's side, Bruce stormed out, and it's all my fault!" She burst into sobs and sank into a seat on the sofa.

Gordon's moustache twitched. He always set off Barbara any time he tried to cook while she was pregnant. He found a box of Kleenex in the attached bathroom, handed it to her, and moved the trash can within her reach. He sat on the other end of the sofa and waited until she wound down before asking, "Alfred's side?"

She dried her eyes and threw away another Kleenex. "Alfred wants a big society wedding at the Manor and that upsets Bruce. He said it was more appropriate to have the ceremony next to the Batsignal."

"That won't work. There's no way to keep the paparazzi out of the taller buildings." Selina chuckled through her tears. "What kind of wedding do you want?"

"I never thought about a wedding or a baby. Just not part of the life I lived. Now I have him and Stephanie and a baby coming." She twisted the wire ring on her left hand. "And he has me. All we need is the stupid license. The only thing I've managed to think of is driving to Atlantic City or flying out to Vegas to get it over with. But I haven't said anything out loud because Alfred will kill us both."

"So Alfred and Bruce fighting is your fault because you aren't a bridezilla?"

The tears welled up again. "Bruce stayed because of me. I told them Bruce Wayne had a baby and they couldn't wait to crown it prince or princess of Gotham. He wanted to leave with me." She blotted her face. "And now I can't stop crying. This isn't me!"

"Pregnancy hormones. You won't feel normal until the baby's about a year old," he explained.

"Shit, make me feel better now."

"You know as well as I do that no one makes Bruce do what he doesn't want to do, and Alfred probably knows better than both of us. You two need to talk about the wedding you want and send out invitations already. The rest of us have lives too. My daughter is moving back to Gotham at the end of the month. It'd save me trouble finding a date."

Selina chuckled again before blowing her nose. She dropped that Kleenex into the trash can and pulled another one out of the box.

"But you need to talk to him about it, not through Alfred."

Another knock on his office door, but this one didn't wait for a greeting. Bruce Wayne opened it with a green folder in his hand. "Commissioner, I have the contract for your review... Selina? What's wrong? Did something happen?" He dropped the folder on the desk as he crossed the office.

Selina waved the Kleenex before tossing it. "Hormonal leaking. I'm fine, Stephanie's fine."

He didn't look convinced as he reached the sofa. Gordon moved out of their way and went to his borrowed desk. "You two run along. I have to concentrate on police work now."

"Thanks, Jim, for putting up with me." Selina waved as Bruce ushered her out. Gordon's moustache twitched again as he looked at his reports.

* * *

They stopped at Saint Mary's Park and sent Stephanie to explore a new playground while they sat on a nearby bench. Selina wished she had gotten some water at City Hall.

Bruce set his briefcase between his feet before he shifted to look at her. "So why unleash your hormonal leaking on Gordon?"

"You left first, and I didn't want to give Alfred and Leslie the wrong idea that I'm upset over the wedding stuff. But I couldn't stop the tears."

"Alfred is worried that we won't follow through and he's old-fashioned."

"So we're living in sin?"

"And happy with it. He knows I don't care if the society hags find fault with anything I do, but I do care what he thinks. He hasn't started nagging you, has he?"

Selina shook her head. "No, not nagging. He wants my opinion because you won't plan anything, and I don't have one to give him."

Bruce chuckled. "I thought all I had to do was show up and do what I was told because Alfred and Rachel would have it all planned out. Now Alfred is acting like I have decisions to make."

She didn't feel threatened by Bruce's admission that he wanted Rachel as his wife. That was then and this is now. "I don't have any ideas, and you don't have any ideas. Alfred may consider it nice not to plan it for us, but all it is doing is making Vegas look better and better."

"We can't, Alfred will kill us."

Stephanie ran from the slide and Bruce caught her before she rammed his knees. "Hi," she said.

"Hi, you need something?" Selina asked.

She looked at Bruce, who had a small smile interrupting his serious expression. "You forgot to kiss Selina before you went to work. Are you mad?"

"I had to go sign papers at work. We're not fighting." Bruce leaned over and kissed Selina. "Sorry about that."

"Don't forget again," Stephanie warned before running to the monkey bars.

Bruce's smile widened. "So what did Gordon have to say?"

"The Batsignal is out. The paparazzi will surround us."

"True. I was more worried about the paperwork than the wedding when I suggested that. I wasn't trying to leave it all on you." He opened his briefcase and pulled out a checkbook with folded papers tucked into it. He handed it to her. "I took the liberty of opening a checking account for you."

"I would have gotten around to it eventually." She opened the checkbook and her jaw dropped at all the zeroes on the deposit slip. "Bruce!"

"Your twenty-five percent finder's fee. No point on negotiating on the belongings; it will all be community property soon."

"But I didn't earn it."

"I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you. You have earned it." He closed the checkbook in her hands. "Besides, I don't want you to have to come to me for money all the time."

She took a deep breath to restart her insides from the shock. "That will keep your gifts a surprise longer." She tucked the bank stuff into her coat pocket with her wallet. "Speaking of, is there anything special you want for your birthday?"

"You don't have to get me anything. Being free of medical directives will be gift enough. When is your birthday?"

"February fifth, and I want breakfast at the Carlyle if it's reopened."

"I like that idea." Bruce leaned over and kissed her again. "And this is what else I had to go sign." He handed her a blue folder.

She read the first page and laughed. "You bought Daggett Industries?"

"I made Daggett's cousin Roland an offer yesterday. He didn't want to leave the West Coast or move it there, and accepted my deal." He pulled a set of keys from his coat pocket. "Do you want to see what I bought?"

"Sure, I never got to see his offices. Stephanie! What are you and Lucius going to do with it?"

"Lucius has his hands full with Wayne Enterprises." He took back the folder as Stephanie grabbed Selina's hand. "This company is mine and the crews will start repairing my properties as soon as they're hired." He unlocked the SUV.

Selina locked the seat belt around Stephanie and her car seat. "We need to get some lunch."

"We can eat and drop Stephanie off at the penthouse."

"You want to leave me with Alfred?" Stephanie pouted.

"We're not doing anything fun," Selina said as she twisted to look at the girl in the back seat.

"Don't want to stay with Alfred." She crossed her arms.

"Okay, we'll eat at the cafeteria at Wayne Enterprises." Bruce called Alfred and told him they'd be back in time for supper.

Daggett Industries rented the top six floors of a skyscraper on East Twentieth Street within sight of Wayne Tower. How that must have irked Daggett, Selina thought as they rode up the elevator. The doors slid open onto a wrecked lobby. The waiting chairs had beaten the receptionist desk and battered the walls. One teetered in the sheet rock between the lobby and another office. Spray paint graffiti altered Daggett's logo with words Selina was glad Stephanie couldn't read yet. "I think you're better off letting the lease go," Selina offered.

"Daggett was already dead; why would Bane's men destroy his offices?" He stared at the mess like it would reset as he turned.

Selina pointed to the profanity-laced graffiti that told Daggett to 'burn in hell, Boss.' "Daggett left behind a lot of disgruntled employees."

"Now they're mine until I terminate them."

"What does that mean?" Stephanie asked.

"They wouldn't work for me any longer and can go find a new job," Bruce answered. "We need to find the personnel files. They aren't safe here. I'll start at the top." He got back in the elevator.

Selina smirked. He so wanted to see if Daggett had left anything incriminating behind. If he had asked, she would have told him Daggett's plotting was done from his penthouse apartment. She pulled the chair out of the receptionist's desk and set the pieces out of the way. She found the office directory inside the dented metal drawer. "H.R. is two stories up."

Stephanie ran back to the elevator and hit the up button. "Got it."

"Good job." Selina joined her inside it. The empty lobby on the third floor of Daggett Industries hadn't been wrecked. Selina opened the door labeled 'Human Resources.'

Cubicle walls were knocked over into the aisles. Computer wires dangled from desks no longer connected to the missing computers. "Wow, they made a mess everywhere," Stephanie said.

"Yes, this is why I tell you to pick up your toys." Selina turned around. The sheet rock walls jutted out into the open space of the floor beside the elevator bank. "Let's head that way."

Only two cubicle walls were knocked down in the aisle against the wall. Selina picked them up and propped them out of the way. The door they reached was labeled 'File Room.' Stephanie grabbed the handle. "Locked. We need Bruce's keys."

"Please. I can pick a pin and tumbler lock in my sleep. It'd be easier if I had brought my lock picks." Selina stepped into the first open cubicle and searched. She found a large metal paperclip in a dumped-out cup on the desk. The second cubicle had a set of small screwdrivers in the drawer.

"Show me?" Stephanie asked. She focused on what Selina did, and Selina slowed down and explained what she was doing and why.

Bruce found them before she lifted the last pin. "You could've just asked for the key."

"But I wouldn't see how," Stephanie said.

"You're teaching her how to pick a lock?"

The pin gave way and Selina turned the lock with the flat screwdriver. "She asked and it's not a bad skill to know." She stood and tucked the makeshift tools into her jeans pocket.

"It's okay," Stephanie said. "You can show me how to fight like you do Uncle John." She pushed the file room door open wider.

Selina whirled to face Bruce and he raised his hands against her glare. "We're not sparring. I'm just demonstrating moves for him to practice." He reached around her and turned on the lights.

She took a deep breath, trusted that he wasn't endangering his health, and followed him inside. The file room had floor-to-ceiling filing racks that moved on a track. Nearly every shelf was full of folders. "How are we going to take all these?"

"They left us some boxes." Bruce pointed to the shrink-wrapped, collapsed boxes in the corner as he pulled out his cell phone. "Alfred, we need supplies."

She opened and folded the first box while he instructed Alfred to send Blake with a dolly and more boxes. "Have you ever done this before? Hire and fire people?"

He opened the first rack and reached for the top shelf folders. "I hired Lucius. But I fired William Earle over the phone, running late to the meeting." He handed her a stack of folders. "You should have Lucius tell you the story. The way he describes the look on Earle's face is hysterical."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Bruce set the box he carried next to the chairs surrounding the television. Selina set hers on top of his while Blake maneuvered the dolly out from under his stack. "One more load of boxes?" Bruce asked.

"I can get it." Blake pulled the dolly back to the elevator.

Alfred joined them. "What's all this?"

Stephanie climbed onto an arm chair. "Bruce bought a mess to fix his buildings."

"I bought Daggett Industries," Bruce explained.

The old man grinned. "Well done, sir."

"Couldn't happen to a nastier man," Selina added. "Come on, Stephanie; let's wash our hands for supper."

Everyone ended up at the dining bar for Alfred's lamb stew and homemade bread. Bruce watched him while he put the last touches on the mousse cups. "Alfred, what are the plans for January thirtieth?"

"What's on January thirtieth?" Blake asked.

"Master Wayne's fortieth birthday," Alfred answered. "I'm so glad you are taking an interest in that. Shall I continue compiling a guest list for the celebration?"

Bruce shook his head. "No party."

"You don't want a birthday party?" Stephanie asked.

"No, because every time we entertain, it's a disaster."

"Not every time," Alfred scoffed.

Bruce raised his eyebrows. "My thirtieth birthday ended with the Manor burnt to the ground."

"The League of Shadows was not on the guest list."

Blake swallowed his water before asking, "They burnt your mansion before starting the Narrows Riot?"

"They were trying to kill me," Bruce added. "The Wayne Foundation dedication reception, remember that?"

"Who could have predicted that Bill Earle Junior would attempt to out playboy Bruce Wayne?"

Selina glanced at Bruce and Alfred. "What did he do?"

"I did bring multiple dates to events, but all their clothes stayed on. Then the Joker attacked the fundraiser we gave for Harvey Dent."

"Like that wasn't your plan to lure him out," Alfred said.

"I planned for Rachel to be dropped out the window?" Bruce demanded.

Selina leaned back and caught Blake's eye. "I'm sensing a pattern here," she said. Blake nodded.

Bruce ignored their comments. "Then the last Dent Day celebration."

"What happened then?"

"I broke in." Selina grinned at Alfred.

"And you're complaining about that outcome, Master Wayne?"

"No, I'm saying we're tempting fate enough with a wedding. No birthday party."

Alfred frowned. "And what about the people who actually care that you reached your fortieth year?"

Stephanie pushed her bowl away. "Another wedding fight," she said.

Selina's second glance at Alfred and Bruce was thoughtful. "Gotham isn't ready for a blow-out bash that Bruce Wayne used to give. Can you two compromise on a formal dinner? We have to get a table."

Alfred looked at Bruce. "A small dinner, just family and friends," Bruce said.

"Very well, Master Wayne."

"And birthday cake?" Stephanie asked.

"Of course, little miss." Alfred exchanged her stew bowl for a mousse cup. "I assume those boxes are records from Daggett Industries?"

"Personnel records from all the subsidiaries too. I need to find someone who can lead me to the rest of the company assets."

Blake smirked, "Gee, I'm so sorry I'm too busy with surveillance tonight to help you shift the haystack for the needle."

"We may still be at it by the time you come home." Selina glanced down the penthouse at the boxes.

"Who exactly do you wish to contact?" Alfred exchanged their dishes for the mousse cups. "A vice-president of operations?"

Bruce shook his head as he picked up his dessert spoon. "A supervisor, foreman, somebody between management and the workers. I can buy equipment, but I need someone to tell me who's worth rehiring to get started as soon as possible. I don't plan on keeping any of Daggett's management team. They should be investigated for involvement with Bane."

"If you can find any that survived the Occupation," Blake said. "Stryver didn't."

"Good riddance." Selina licked her dessert spoon. "What? He was guilty of working with Bane and he tried to kill me."

"I can take you to the cement plants," Blake said. "I toured almost all of them right before Gotham blew up. See you tomorrow."

"Have a good night, John," Bruce said.

Stephanie turned to Selina as John left. "Did you hit that Stryver man with the whip?"

"No, I punched him, knocked the lightweight out in one blow."

"Teach me how to punch people like that!" Stephanie twisted to Bruce.

"Little girls shouldn't hit," Alfred said.

"Why? Grown-up hit all the time."

She said it so matter-of-factly, Bruce swallowed down his ire at the injustice of her former life and what she knew of their lives. He slipped off his stool and knelt in front of hers, ignoring the creaking in his knees as he looked up at the little girl. "Why do you want to learn how to fight?"

"So nobody hurts me again." Her blue eyes were so serious.

"I can't teach you that part of self-defense yet. Your parents might not want me to."

Stephanie pouted. "They don't care."

"And we don't want Child Protection Services to say you can't live here because I'm teaching you self-defense."

"So after they say I can stay forever?"

"I promise to teach you what you want to know."

Stephanie heaved a sigh and he wondered who she picked that up from. "Okay, but you better not forget."

Selina stood. "Come on, it's bath time."

Alfred waited until they heard the second elevator moving. "Don't pass on your demons, Master Wayne."

"It's a dangerous world. All I want to do is give my children the tools to defeat it." He grabbed a banker's box and started sorting the files in it. After Alfred finished the dishes, he put on his glasses and began another box.

Selina didn't take long to join them. "Got any more file rooms to clean out? She nearly fell asleep brushing her teeth." She brought a box to the couch. "Found anybody yet?"

"I found out I'm going to pay the ones who stay a decent wage," Bruce said. "No wonder they trashed the office and took everything not bolted down."

"Told you he was a cheapskate."

Bruce smiled at her comment. She had recovered her good humor. Finding her in tears in Gordon's office had shook him so much he still hadn't mentioned what he had bought today. He didn't want to start the tears again. And wedding talk was bound to start them.

They continued to work in silence. His mind churned on the wedding question as he moved the upper management files to their own box. Rebuilding Gotham came first and his wedding could wait until the city was at least treated normally by the federal government again. That couldn't take as long as Selina's pregnancy. Either Alfred expected it to take longer than that or suspected that Bruce and Selina never planned to actually go through with the wedding, so the sooner he got them to march down the aisle the better.

He could focus on the wedding after this week was over.

Alfred straightened his glasses. "This looks like a promising candidate, sir. Jerry Cruncher lives in Randall on Uptown Island. He worked as a supervisor for Daggett Industries and started under Broucer Cement Company before it was purchased by Daggett." He passed Bruce the folder.

He looked over Cruncher's record. No complaints on how he handled his subordinates, all his projects came in on time and at or under budget, and his trade licenses were all up to date. "Have to see how he interviews tomorrow. If he works out," he glanced at the stack of boxes they hadn't opened yet, "I'll hire some office help next. In the meantime, we better move those to my office."

"I'll take care of that tomorrow, sir." Alfred stood with a stretch. "It is late and I don't nap as well as Miss Selina."

Bruce turned and saw her stretched out on the couch with one hand tucked in between the folders of her box parked under the couch. He smiled before leaning down and kissing her exposed cheek. She muttered under her breath. He grabbed her hand before it swatted him. "We have beds."

"I wanted to help," she said as she sat up.

"Alfred found somebody to interview tomorrow. You can help with that." He steered her through the kitchen to the second elevator.

Her confused stare was sleepy too. "Why do you need my help with that?"

"I don't need it, but I'd like it."

"It'll be me and Stephanie. She won't stay with Alfred."

The elevator opened on the second floor. "Do you know why?" he asked. Selina shook her head with a yawn that shifted to a grimace when Stephanie's cry reached them in the hallway. "I'll get her," he said.

Stephanie was opening her bedroom door when he reached it. She clutched her doll to her chest and kicked. Her bare foot missed his leg. "It's Bruce, Stephanie. You had a nightmare?"

Her tear-filled eyes recognized him and she held up her arms. He scooped her up. "Want 'Lina," she said.

"She's getting ready for bed." He carried her back to the master suite. Selina was heading out of the bathroom in her nightgown. He passed the pajama-clad girl to her before Stephanie kicked her way out of his arms. "Now I need to get ready for bed."

"We gotta stop meeting like this, kid," Selina muttered as Stephanie wrapped her arms and legs around her. She moved toward the bed and started singing a lullaby.

Bruce shook his head to break his observation of them and headed to change into his own pajamas. Tomorrow was a busy day and they all needed sleep.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 19

Selina looked at the four-story brick townhouse while Bruce rang the doorbell. It was the best-looking building on the block. The front courtyard beside the stoop was dusted with snow, but the plants in the large concrete planters were prepped for the cold.

The door eased open and a Hispanic man peered out. "You folks need help?"

"We're looking for Mr. Jerry Cruncher, who worked at Daggett Industries," Bruce said.

"That's me, but Daggett Industries is kaput."

"I know, I just bought it, Bruce Wayne." He held out his hand.

The door opened wider. "Bruce Wayne?" He glanced down the steps at Selina and Stephanie. "What do you want with me?"

"I'd like your help."

"Jerry, honey, who is it?" A female voice asked from inside the townhouse.

"It's Bruce Wayne," Cruncher said over his shoulder.

"What? Don't leave him outside; it's freezing!" The door jerked wider and a smaller Hispanic woman smiled through her shock. "Come in, please. I'm Anita Cruncher."

Bruce nodded with a smile as he moved to let Selina and Stephanie inside first. "This is my fiancée, Selina Kyle and Stephanie." 

Anita led them through the vestibule and into the stairwell hallway where she hung their coats on the mirrored coat stand. The double doors into the living room were open and the fireplace held the crackling fire. The couch was set in front of the windows to look down the length of the townhouse into the dining room. Anita ushered them to sit there while she pulled a wheeled office chair from the computer desk on the other side of the room to the recliner Jerry Cruncher turned from the television set over the mantle. Stephanie shoved herself between Selina's thighs. They both smiled with their eyes caught by headlights. Selina continued to smile and blink, hoping it would clue in their eyelids.

Bruce started again. "I just bought Daggett Industries and I need help restarting the construction subsidiaries. Gotham has plenty to rebuild now."

Cruncher squirmed in the recliner. "You do know Daggett is... was responsible for a lot of that damage. He kept replacing men who been in the company for years with muscle-heads who barely knew how to drive the equipment. By the time we figured out it was his African mercenaries, there wasn't anybody to alert."

Anita squeezed her husband's arm as he looked at the floor. Bruce scooted forward. "I know what Daggett was complacent in. That's part of the reason I bought his company: his former equipment repairing the damage it inflicted. The other reason is most of my real estate needs the repairs."

Cruncher looked up. "Why come to me?"

"Because your record was exemplary, you know the people who actually do the work and deserve a better paycheck for it, and you want to make things right."

The man blinked at Bruce. "Are you sure you're a suit? Cause I never heard a suit promise to make things right by spending more money."

"Jerry!" his wife exclaimed.

Bruce chuckled. "I'm looking forward to not dealing with the suits myself since I'm not planning on rehiring anyone from the former management." He nudged Selina's arm. Selina dug into her black purse for the papers Bruce had asked her to carry. "This is the salary and benefits package I'm prepared to offer for the position. It's not an office job, but hopefully you'll have more than one crew to supervise, eventually."

Cruncher unfolded the sheets of paper and his brown eyes bulged. "Director of Operations for Revitalize Gotham Construction Company?" Anita leaned over his arm to see the page. "That's… that's triple my previous salary."

"An employee stock option plan and a 401(k)?" Anita asked.

"That's standard for S corporation ESOPs, which I'm restructuring the company into. That way no employee's retirement rests only on company stock," Bruce explained.

Selina tried when they both stared at them blankly. "All the employees will own Revitalize Gotham Construction Company along with Bruce. How many shares is based on time employed."

Cruncher pointed to the desk. "Get me a pen."

"You can take some time to think about it," Bruce said.

"Mr. Wayne, I've spent everyday since the Occupation ended worrying that no one would hire me after I worked for Daggett. This is a more generous opportunity than I ever dreamed of. I'll take it. When do you want me to start?" Anita found an ink pen in the computer desk and passed it to her husband.

"Please call me Bruce." He signed the contract too and passed it to Selina. "First, we need to track down all the equipment, access the jobs I have, and hire people to work them."

Anita shook herself. "Let me make some coffee."

"I'll help," Selina offered. Stephanie let Selina stand but gripped Selina's shirt hem as they followed Anita through the doorway formed from two bookcases into the dining room. Anita moved around the island to the sink against the wall. "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Cruncher."

Anita tittered as she filled the coffee pot. "Call me Anita."

"Sure as long as you call me Selina."

"We've worked hard on the house, but I'm sure it doesn't compare to Bruce Wayne's home." She measured out the coffee grounds.

"Don't judge him by those pictures in _Architectural Digest_. He liked my walk-up."

Anita let the coffee pot percolate and pulled a stack of small plates from an upper cabinet. "Would you like some cake, Selina?"

"I want some," Stephanie said under Selina.

"Say please," Selina reminded her.

"Please I want some cake."

Anita chuckled as she uncovered the cake stand and cut the chocolate cake. "You can sit at the table and eat it, little niña, if you can let go of your mommy."

"Selina's not my mommy." Stephanie did let go of Selina's shirt and tugged on the closest chair. 

"We've been taking care of her until we find her parents." Selina helped her into the chair. "We don't know if she'll stay with us permanently."

Anita nodded as she set the slice of cake in front of Stephanie. "You're mothering her very well."

"Selina's gonna be a mommy when she has the baby. Thank you, Mrs. Cruncher."

"Yes, I'm pregnant," Selina said with a sigh. The baby bump was growing more pronounced, even if she hadn't needed to find maternity clothes yet.

"Congratulations." Footsteps clattered down the stairs and a nine-year-old boy spun himself around the newel post before he ran down the hall and into the kitchen. "My baby, Young Jerry. This is Ms. Kyle."

"Sorry, Mom. Didn't know we had company. Oh cake." His toffee-brown eyes gleamed as he inched closer to the cake stand.

"Sit at the table and you can have one slice."

Young Jerry bolted to the table and Anita served him a slice. Then Selina carried the cake saucers into the living room while Anita brought the coffee. The men were talking about supplies and equipment and where they were stored. They left them to it and returned to the kitchen.

"Can Stephanie play upstairs?" Young Jerry asked.

"If she wants and it's all right with Ms. Kyle."

"It's okay with me," Selina said.

The children ran upstairs. Anita shook her head as she picked up the plates. "I'm not going to give you pregnancy advice. Everyone and their mother will do that as soon as it's obvious." She cut two more slices of cake and brought them to the table. "Just enjoy the baby time, even when he or she is trying to scream their head off at three a.m. Because once they start moving, you're racing to keep up and they don't stop."

Selina enjoyed talking with Anita and found herself promising to get together again soon when Bruce realized they had to go to another appointment. Maybe she had someone else to hormonal leak on beside Gordon. Someone would have to help her find a wedding dress. Her eyes drifted closed as the SUV drove wherever they had to go next. Bruce hadn't mentioned it. She really didn't care.

The car slowed and someone demanded to see Bruce's I.D. Nobody wanted hers so she left her eyes closed. Bruce chuckled as they drove again. "Don't sleep through your surprise."

She yawned and blinked. They were parking nears a small jet that was still rolling to a stop. "I thought we ruled out eloping."

"We're picking up not leaving." She climbed out of the passenger seat while Bruce freed Stephanie from her car seat. The door opened on the jet and a blonde in a dark sweater with large paisley flower designs knitted into it stepped out, a familiar blonde who waved like a tourist.

Selina's sleepiness jolted out of her as she blinked. She turned to Bruce who watched her with eyes worried that she wasn't happy. Hardly surprising that he was nervous with the way her eyes watered. "Bruce, you… you…." She gave up on words and dragged his head down to hers. He resisted to remain standing, and his mouth opened to hers. She released him and ran across the tarmac. "Jen!"

Jen met her halfway and flung her arms around her with a happy squeal. "Selina!" Jen squeezed. "You stopped exercising with living the high life? You're thicker." Jen pulled back and tilted her head at Selina's tears. "Pussycat, you don't…." Her jaw dropped. "Selina, are you preggers?" Selina nodded as the tears leaked down her cheeks. "Why didn't you tell me!" Jen squealed and hugged her again.

"You were upset about not getting back to Gotham," Selina said as they pulled back again. "I didn't want to add to that."

Jen tucked one arm around Selina's waist as they walked back to the SUV. "You thought you could get away with it but your belly's poking out." She jabbed at it through Selina's coat.

"You didn't tell me you were coming home."

"Bruce's idea." Jen laughed as Bruce looked chagrinned. She let go of Selina and wrapped her arms around his neck. "When I told you to take care of her, I didn't mean knock her up."

Bruce stiffened before wrapping his arms around Jen. "It was a surprise to me too."

"Mr. Wayne?" One of the airplane crew pulled a crate to the SUV. "Where do you want your cargo?"

Bruce untangled himself and opened the rear hatch. Stephanie darted to Selina's leg. Jen crouched to her level. "Hi there, are you Stephanie?"

Stephanie nodded as she clutched Selina's leg.

"Bruce asked me to get this for you." She pulled her messenger bag in front of her and pulled out a yellow cereal box.

Stephanie frowned at it. "That's the chocolate milk bunny."

"Yeah, he covers Cocoa Puffs in Germany. I made sure before I bought them."

"It's really Cocoa Puffs?" Stephanie hugged the box. "Thank you!"

The rear hatch shut with the crate inside and Bruce returned to their group. "Ready to go home, ladies?"

Jen sat in the back seat next to Stephanie's car seat, and Selina twisted in the front passenger's seat to continue talking. "I see Oswald finally got you to wear something besides blue jeans."

"It was a deal to make him stop calling me Magpie." She brushed off the black leggings. "It didn't work and I think he had the housekeeper burn my old clothes. Oh, he wrote you a letter." She dug into her messenger bag and pulled out a parchment-colored envelope.

Selina smirked at the ornate C embossed in gold foil on the flap. She tugged the matching sheet of paper out and saw the ornate C repeated as the letterhead. 

> Dear Felonious Feline,
> 
> I trust that your sister's treatment in my employ meets with your approval. Magpie has a natural knack for numbers. If you are both insistent on this reformation course of action, you would do well to steer her to the field of accounting.
> 
> Speaking of reformation, I understand the impulse. The opportunity to end your career with the utter defeat of a petty warlord who had the United States' government by the throat as it were is a singular occasion and the successful unearthing of the CleanSlate program; Catwoman is a legend for everyone. Alas, why are you wasting your engineered reputation by dragging that wastrel Wayne along with you? A woman of your stature and abilities does not deserve the treatment he has regularly cultivated as his courtship behavior. It is deplorable how the tabloid mongers are linking your image with his. All they lack is a name.
> 
> However, if you are not indulging in some hormonal whim with him, I would recommend a vicious pre-nuptial agreement to protect your interest and to wreak vengeance on the inevitable dalliance that shall doom the marriage Magpie is convinced is pending. Always remember, should you need funds, I shall always have a pretty to be purloined.
> 
> Cordially yours,
> 
> Oswald.

"Aw," Selina said. "That's practically sweet coming from Oswald." She put the letter back in the envelope.

"Sweet? Oswald?" Jen reached for the envelope.

Selina put it in her purse. "He offered me free legal advice." Jen laughed as she flopped back. "He thinks I should get a prenup."

"Has he been talking to Lorry?" Bruce asked.

"Your lawyer wants me to sign a prenup?"

"Of course he does. Do you want one?" He glanced at her while the stopped from the National Guard traffic.

"Updating your will is a better idea. You won't end up like Gilly if you cheat on me."

"You don't have to worry about that."

"Wait a minute," Jen leaned forward again. "He really asked you to marry him?" Selina nodded. Jen grabbed Selina's left hand and raised it. "That didn't happen until there's a ring on it."

"I have a ring." Selina wiggled her fingers.

"That's not even a promise ring."

"Alfred fusses about a ring too," Stephanie said.

"The jewelry stores were looted. Someone even made off with Aunt Helena's emeralds."

Selina took back her hand. "Oh Bruce, the bank didn't secure the necklace?"

"Not as well as the safe deposit boxes. The rest of the collection is fine."

Jen looked at Bruce through the rearview mirror. "You don't have a ring in there?"

"None I want to wear," Selina answered when Bruce's jaw clenched. "Let it go, Jen. We're having enough issues with the event itself."

"Wedding makes Bruce mad," Stephanie said to Jen but loud enough they all heard her. "But not punch the wall mad."

Bruce sighed out his tension. "The wedding isn't making me mad, Stephanie. I just think other things are more important than planning a big party right now."

"You didn't want a birthday party either," Stephanie added.

"I don't like being the center of attention."

Stephanie's eyebrows knitted together. "What does that mean?"

"Sweetie, have you ever been to a party?" Selina asked.

"No, but Mickey's birthday party was fun on TV."

"I have no idea where to go from that," Bruce admitted.

"A wedding isn't done like a birthday party," Selina said. "And if we chose the wrong flowers, wrong colors, wrong music, people will talk bad about Bruce."

He grunted as they crossed over the steel segment patching the Adams Bridge. "You know it is you who will get the brunt of all the criticisms."

"And there's no way for me to pick their pockets in a wedding dress, you'll be a grumpy mess, so maybe we should put a warning in the invitations that we will punch pretentious buttholes."

"Alfred will never go for that."

"Use the whip," Stephanie said. "Selina has a whip," she told Jen.

"Yeah, Auntie Jen did not need to know that. Let 'em keep it in their bedroom."

Bruce opened his mouth, glanced at Selina, snapped his mouth closed, and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Selina felt her cheeks heat. Leave it to Jen to plant an image neither of them could act on for another week. Not that she wanted to hurt Bruce, but if he wore the armor.... Great, now the rest of her heated. She unfastened her coat.

Jen chatted with Stephanie about cartoons the little girl liked until they entered the penthouse. "Holy view over the city!" Jen said as the elevator doors opened. "Good thing none of us are afraid of heights."

Alfred stepped up to their group and hid his curiosity by taking Jen's suitcase from Bruce. "Jen, this is Alfred Pennyworth," Bruce said. "He takes care of everything in the house. Alfred, this is Selina's sister, Jen. Will you start using Kyle as a last name?"

Jen blinked. "That's an option now?"

"We need to talk about it," Selina said. 

"Life update too sensitive for the phone, okay. Hi, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Alfred is fine, Miss Jen. How long will you be staying with us?"

Jen's blue eyes widened. "Hey, if it's inconvenient, I can go back to the walk-up."

"No," Bruce and Selina said in unison. Selina let Bruce have the declaration. "Jen is family and she's always welcome here."

Selina took Jen's suitcase from Alfred. "Let's find you a bedroom and catch up on girl talk." She steered Jen toward the staircase and Stephanie followed them.

"There's a whole 'nother floor to this place?"

"Yep." Selina opened the door at the top of the stairs. "We've only got seven bedrooms to choose from."

Jen skipped in front of her and turned with an impish grin. "And you didn't want to keep him." She seized the first doorknob on the left and opened it.

"This bedroom's taken." Blake leaned against the doorjamb.

"That's Uncle John's room," Stephanie said.

Jen's grin went sheepish. "Oops. Hey, I remember you, the cop who put Selina in a tizzy."

"John Blake," Selina said. "He's head of security at Wayne Enterprises now and a bodyguard if we need one in a pinch. My sister, Jen."

Jen shook his hand. "But you were a cop?"

"I resigned after the War on Gotham. Is Bruce downstairs?"

Selina nodded. Stephanie decided to move ahead of the grown-ups and opened the next door on the left. "This bedroom's empty. Alfred sleeps there." She pointed across the hall. "My room's down there in front of Bruce and Selina's huge room." She turned and pointed down the hall.

Jen joined the little girl at the door. "This is nice; I'll take it."

"Can I go play now?" Stephanie looked up at Selina.

"Sure." She pushed her way into the room, dropped the suitcase next to the dresser, and flopped down on the beige-covered bed.

Jen shut the door. "What's the deal, 'Lina? 'Cause if you're sticking it out to give the kids a stable home life, we can do that just fine alone."

Selina shook her head. "It's not like that. Bruce surprised Alfred too, bringing you here. Alfred will apologize later."

"So he's not first in line with the you're-not-good-enough-for-Bruce-Wayne?" 

"Nope, he's in the get-it-done-before-the-baby's-illegitimate and my-boy-has-found-his-match-let's-celebrate camps."

"Yeah, I see where he's coming from, hell; I may be on that fence. You in a wedding dress; who would've thunk? So what's the hold up?"

"We were married when he gave me this ring. The damn ceremony is full of fancy land mines."

The younger woman sat next to Selina. "So Bruce doesn't want to be the center of attention and you don't want people calling you a gold-digging slut. How many upper crust people are left to impress?"

"Hell if I know. Don't ask Bruce that; he's touchy about the Occupation deaths."

Jen nodded. "Okay, so if we set aside the judgmental asshole worries, what kind of wedding do you want?"

Selina chuckled. "The heart of the problem, neither of us expected to get married, so we don't know what we want other than we both hate Alfred's ideas of a big society do at Wayne Manor."

"A party might do that place some good."

Selina groaned as she fell back on the mattress. "Bruce's parents had everything at the Manor and it was like Will and Kate's wedding for the eastern seaboard. Bruce doesn't want a copy of that."

"How many wedding planners have run screaming from you guys?"

"I'd let Alfred have the reception and he could invite all of Gotham if that makes him happy. He raised Bruce; he deserves a chance to show off." She stared up at the plaster ceiling.

Jen smoothed back Selina's hair. "But you don't want all of Gotham at the ceremony."

"God no."

A rapid knock hit the door and Bruce stepped inside after Jen called out permission. "John and I are taking the supplies to the offices," he said.

"Don't let him keep you out too late." Selina smirked at him as he looked at her. "And no roughhousing."

"I'll be back for supper." He bent over and kissed her. "Excuse us, Jen."

"Don't mind me; I think you two are cute." Jen giggled and evaded Selina's swat. Bruce shook his head as he closed the door. "So how did you get the CleanSlate? Daggett told you it wasn't real."

Selina was ready with this story and nothing gave away Bruce's secret. "Turns out, Batman got the program before Daggett bought Rykin Data. He found us in Bruce's bunker and offered it to me if I helped with Bane."

* * *

Blake opened up the relevant computer files on the bunker's computer while Bruce looked over his shoulder. He was getting better with the system, but the alerts still gave him issues. And Gotham wasn't running normally yet. "The Red Cross running Downtown Hospital didn't know they were dealing with drug-induced paranoia; just thought it was an Occupation result. By the time the numbers hit my radar, the Scarecrow had moved."

"It was almost a year after the Narrows Riot before I caught up with him again. But after so many years in Blackgate Prison, he'll slip up sooner rather than later. I'll make sure the access to all the hospitals admittance records is better." Bruce pointed to the security footage at the docks near Carter Bridge. "What's going on there?"

"Dealers associated with the Evermonds are interested in the ship docking there tonight. I was planning on following the cargo straight to them."

"And ask them what the hell they were doing with Stephanie." Bruce straightened. "Call the vault as soon as you know."

"You won't be able to call the lawyers at two a.m."

"I don't want to lose my temper in front of the lawyers either. Call the vault."

"Listen in on my interrogation. Mr. Fox wants me to check the improvements he made to the comm units." Blake spun his chair to face Bruce who nodded. "So how much is Jen allowed to know?"

"Selina and I haven't discussed it, but Batman is dead and plausible deniability is best for you." Bruce pushed away from the desk. "I need to get back."

"You need to get a ring on Selina's finger. Don't glare at me. I'm looking out for you."

Bruce crossed his arms. "Explain."

"You never had to deal with the system. The system loves normal families. Especially for a little girl who has been abused. Don't give the system any reason to doubt that you and Selina are normal."

He nodded and headed to the lift. "Call the vault tonight."

"I will." Blake waited until the lift was up before blowing out his lungs. Bruce took that better than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about last week. I just couldn't get this chapter typed. But I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by what was distracting me.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

The ring box felt like it was made of lead in his pocket. Bruce left the turquoise necklace in the safe inside the equipment vault. This wasn't how he wanted to give the ring to Selina. He sighed. Keeping Stephanie was more important than a romantic memory. Everyone was downstairs: Jen and Stephanie trying to find something to watch on television while Selina and Alfred talked in the kitchen area. "Can I borrow Selina for a minute?"

"Certainly, sir." Alfred continued his supper preparations.

Selina changed her bemused expression for annoyed when Bruce opened the door out to the covered patio. "This is why people put doors in their apartments, so you can have some privacy without freezing." She stopped a few feet from the glass wall.

"Sorry." He moved closer to give her some of his body heat. "Nightwing thinks he'll raid the Evermonds tonight."

The pique narrowing her eyes vanished. "I don't care if her parents are alive; I want us to have custody."

"Lorry has started paperwork for that. And you need to wear this so people will stop questioning our relationship." He pulled the ring box out of his pocket.

Selina's lips curled up as she opened it. "A cat's eye chrysoberyl and diamonds, over a hundred-years-old, fourteen thousand."

"I paid fifteen."

"That's in the acceptable range. You didn't get rooked." She turned it over and looked at the setting.

"None of the looters recognized what it is worth. I thought that could be our private joke." Her eyes lifted from the ring to his face and triggered more words spilling from him. "But if you don't like it, we can find something else. I'll track down the rightful owners if you like something better that the police have confiscated."

She slipped the ring onto her left ring finger over the copper wire before cupping his face with both her hands. "I love you, love the ring, and love the joke." Her hands slid around his neck, resting her arms on his shoulders as they kissed.

Somehow the movement of their lips unleashed most of the tension Bruce hadn't realized his muscles held. "I love you and I don't care who knows it, despite what our audience thinks." He turned them to look through the glass wall.

Alfred spun around and opened the off and empty oven. Jen plopped herself onto a stool and looked up at the decorative items on the bookshelves closest to the kitchen. Stephanie pulled her face off the glass and waved at them.

Selina leaned against him with a chuckle. "What are we going to do with them?"

"We have to keep them; no one else will take them." He nudged her to the door.

Stephanie latched onto Selina's left hand and pulled it to her face. "Is that the gage-mint ring?"

"Engagement ring, yes," Selina corrected.

Jen jumped off the stool and ran to Selina's side. "That's what you consider an engagement ring?" She ducked under the swat from Selina's right hand.

"Hush you, I love it. It has personality."

"It's green. And it's not a solitaire diamond the size of your head."

"Diamonds are traveling money," Bruce said.

"Oh God, you taught him that."

"It's also bigger and nicer than the one-carat diamond he could've bought for the same price. Is supper ready, Alfred? I'm starving."

"Indeed, it is, Miss Selina." They sat down at the dining bar and Selina let Alfred see the ring as he handed out the salads. "It is an exquisite cat's eye."

"Yes, it is," Selina said. "So Jen, what are you planning for a career? Because jewelry appraisal is out."

Jen swallowed her bite of lettuce. "Being a secretary put me in a headspace I didn't like. Oswald said I answered the phone like Talon punched."

Bruce glanced at Stephanie. She ignored the grown-ups and popped a crouton in her mouth with her hand.

"He took me off phone duty and had me go over his books--paranoid about his accountant or something. I liked that."

"You won awards in math in elementary school," Selina said.

"Really? I don't remember that."

"There's always a need for accountants in Gotham," Bruce said. "And you had talked about wanting to go to college."

Jen's face fell. "That will have to wait till the next open semester."

"Actually, it was on the news that Hudson University, Gotham State, and the community colleges were delaying the beginning of term until February fourth," Alfred said, "to give students time to enroll."

"I can enroll just like that?"

"Jennifer Kyle has a high school diploma," Selina said. "And I'll pay for it, but you better make straight A's." Jen snorted at Selina's pronouncement.

Stephanie patted Bruce's arm. "What's college?" He smiled as he explained.

* * *

Didn't matter which uniform he wore, stakeouts were the most boring part of crime fighting. Nightwing stared at the monitors recording the activity on the docks. _Customs needs to get some security,_ he thought as the men moved the boxes out of the warehouse without any obstacles. He looked at the monitor to the far right on the Tumbler's dashboard. The Evermonds and three men who looked like muscle sat around their living room watching television.

The dot on the city map blinked as it moved from the dock. He glanced back at the dock camera. The vans were driving off. He put more cuffs on his belt, climbed out of the Tumbler, and fired the grapple gun. The line attached to his belt pulled him to the roof. He watched the low-rise apartment building across Colgate Avenue. It didn't take long for the two vans to pull up in front of it. Five men climbed out and four took small crates into the building, leaving one leaning against the second van's side.

His smile stretched across his face. _Please make it easier for me and the police._ He fired the grapple gun and swung. He landed on the street behind the vans. The metal on the van's side flexed with a pop in the cold, night air. Nightwing sprinted around the rear of the van.

The thug left with the vans walked straight into his fist. Nightwing flipped him over and cuffed his hands behind his back. The vigilante turned to the vans and tugged two magnetic disks off his belt. He slapped them onto the hoods before hitting the remote control for them.

The vans emitted a whine as all the electronic door locks engaged. The whine died in a flat note. So far the car stoppers did what Fox had advertised. Nightwing shot the grapple gun and rose up to the window he had left unlocked when he set up the camera.

Voices drifted into this dark bedroom from the living room. "This is some high quality shit. It may be worth it to work with those turban heads again."

Nightwing eased into the hall, rolled three delayed smoke bombs into the larger room, and slid the sonar lenses into place over his eyes while he waited. The smoke bombs opened and filled the room. The yells bounced off the people and the walls, showing in the display as white, people-sized forms. One staggered to the hallway. Nightwing kicked him out of the way.

The next one to deal with was the one tugging on the apartment's front door, but he was out of reach with four men between them. He threw a Batarang. The thug yelled when it embedded into his arm.

Nightwing unleashed a round house kick on the thug closest to the wall next to the hallway. He bounced off the wall and hit another thug beside him. They both fell to the floor. Nightwing dropped down, punched the thugs on the floor, and leaped away from the swing the third thug made.

"There's somebody in here!" was yelled between coughing fits.

One of the standing thugs bent over and grabbed a crate. Nightwing knocked it out of his hands. It dropped on the thug's foot, but Nightwing's punch shut up his howl.

A blow hit Nightwing in his back and he sprawled over the thug on the floor. The lucky puncher flailed in the smoke to hit him again. Nightwing kicked his knee and then kicked his head when he lost balance.

The last two thugs were at the main door. One was trying to get the Batarang out of his arm and blocked the second trying to open the door. Nightwing bashed their heads together and stepped back as they crumpled to the floor.

Evermond dashed through the kitchen and threw a toaster through the window to the fire escape. The glass gave way, but Nightwing grabbed him before he made the hole bigger. He slammed the skinny Caucasian face-first on the kitchen table. Evermond groaned as Nightwing pulled his arms back and cuffed him. Smoke drifted out of the hole along with the heated air. A dark-skinned woman darted to the window and knocked out more glass. Nightwing turned to her. "You aren't getting out that way."

She spun at him. The shard clutched in her hand glittered. He ducked back away from the glass and kicked. His foot knocked her into the cabinets. She dropped the glass as she moaned. He managed to cuff her hands behind her back before she recovered to throw her head back.

He shifted away before she slammed against his nose. "Stop or I will knock you out, lady."

Evermond rolled his head to look at them. "That's my wife, you masked bastard," he said through the blood in his mouth.

"And I'm so happy for you both, but head butts won't get the cuffs off." Nightwing tugged Mrs. Evermond into the living room and sat her against the wall. He stepped around the second, open crate and bag of white powder to cuff the seven unconscious thugs on the floor. Then he headed to the bedrooms. They were clear, but he pressed the comm button on his collar. "Receiving me?"

"Loud and clear," Bruce's voice answered. "Any trouble?"

"They're a feisty bunch, but nothing overwhelming. We're going to have a chat now."

"Roger that."

Nightwing clicked on the signal to the police band on his belt as he headed down the hall. He pulled Evermond off the table and set him next to Mrs. Evermond before unlocking the main door of the apartment and dragging the sleeping beauties out of the way. "Now we have time for a little chat before the police show up to haul you away for a very long time."

Evermond spit out his tooth and it almost hit Nightwing's boot. "We ain't talking to a masked cop." Blood-laced spittle ran down his chin.

"You really want to; I'm the nice one." Nightwing's lips curled back. "Because if you think Blackgate will keep Catwoman from giving you the same treatment she gave Roger Cly, tell me. I could use a good laugh."

"You son of a bitch!" Mrs. Evermond kicked her husband's leg. "I told you not to do it."

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Cly has already told the police how he got Stephanie from you. So don't sweat the sale of a minor charge that's already waiting for you. Where did you get her? Where are her parents? Will the D.A. tack on a charge of abduction of a child under sixteen?"

"They're dead," Evermond said with a snarl. "We never kidnapped her. Crystal Brown brought her here when she took her last dose."

"We took her to the clinic," Mrs. Evermond said. "They couldn't do anything for her. So we kept the little brat for two years waiting for her father to get out of Blackgate. We ain't monsters."

"Really, you want to go there?" Nightwing crossed his arms. "After you sold her to a convicted child molester?"

"I told him not to!" Mrs. Evermond yelled. "But that damn fool Arthur got himself dead after his early release."

"Don't know no details about that," Evermond said. "Just heard he pissed off the wrong people."

"Found his record," Bruce said into Nightwing's ear. "Arthur Brown, serving a five-year sentence for robbery, married to a Crystal Brown, one child. His body has already been found and identified."

"And here we were stuck with a kid and owed for taking care of her for two years," Evermond continued. "We took Cly's money. We didn't know what he planned to do with her."

Nightwing surged forward and slid Evermond up the wall. "No idea, huh. Your wife had a pretty good idea what Cly wanted with her." Evermond thrashed as Nightwing shoved him against the plaster. "How much was a child's innocence worth, slime!"

The apartment door swung open behind him. "Police!" a deep bass voice yelled.

"Nightwing!" a woman yelled behind him.

"Do we need to take you in too, vigilante?" the male voice asked.

Nightwing dropped Evermond as he turned to Officers Montoya and Bullock. He ignored Bullock's eager face and focused on Montoya's concern. "They're all yours, officers." He stepped out of their way and back down the hall.

Montoya holstered her weapon and headed to the open crate. "It's not business as usual any more, Evermond."

Nightwing moved into the bedroom and through the window he had entered through. He climbed up to the roof, paused to breathe out his anger, and waited. "Are you clear?" Bruce asked.

"I'm on the roof."

"Are you all right?"

"I hate reminders that people suck."

"They're both off the streets. They can't hurt anyone else." Bruce's inhale sounded ragged. "And you got to hit him."

Nightwing chuckled. "If Catwoman wants a ride to Blackgate...."

"She's not going. She needs that energy to deal with the system tomorrow."

"Okay, I'm going to drive around the city before I come in."

"It's your patrol. Signing off." The slight buzz in his ear ended.

Nightwing turned off his microphone before traveling over the rooftops to where he left the Tumbler parked. Green paper was tucked under the windshield wiper on the driver's side front window. "What the hell?" he said as he landed in the empty alley.

The green paper turned out to be an envelope. The Tumbler was still locked and nothing else had been left on the vehicle. He climbed inside and turned on the interior lights. The only thing inscribed on the front of the envelope was a black question mark.

"Bruce neglected to mention love notes were part of the job." He unfolded the unsealed flap. The poem was printed on clean, white paper with green ink. 

> Some bluebirds told me,  
> They saw a puddy **k** at,  
> In a concrete cage,  
> Made by Bane.
> 
> She wasn't alone tee-he,  
> She never named the bat,  
> But what acts the **y** did engage,  
>  Before boom went the plane.
> 
> Did anyone foresee,  
> That I found the puddykat,  
> In a gi **l** ded cage,  
> Owned by Wayne.
> 
> How could she agree  
> To forget the bat?  
> No grief to assuag **e** ,  
> __________ shows no pain.

"What the hell?" he repeated. Then he shook his head and folded the note back into the envelope. Somebody on the force thought pulling Selina's tail was the way to confirm Catwoman rumors. He'd warn her to be more careful around them.

* * *

Bruce stood to his full height as the short door into the vault closed behind him. Stephanie didn't ask much about her parents, but now they had answers and an opportunity to make things right for her. Speaking of, he walked to the sitting area. Stephanie hugged her yarn-haired doll as she curled on the couch. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

Selina lifted her head from the pillow when he set Stephanie beside her. "On the couch again?"

"Maybe we should replace her bed with a daybed." Bruce shucked off his robe before crawling into the bed.

"You heard from Blake?"

He nodded against Selina's neck as his arm embraced both of them. "She's Stephanie Brown and both her parents are dead. After the sun rises, we have to make her Stephanie Wayne."

Selina's hand covered his on Stephanie's back.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 20

Jen woke to a high-pitched, "No! Stay with you!" right outside her bedroom door. A more subdued male voice answered, but whatever he said set off a chorus of no's. She blinked at the alarm clock. Earlier than she had planned to get up, but the grown-up sounded like he needed reinforcement.

Stephanie sat on John Blake's sock-clad feet and hugged his pajama-covered shins. "Stay with you. Stay with you. Stay with you."

John sagged against the doorframe. "Steph, I have to sleep. Alfred won't hurt you."

"I'll be quiet!"

"Yeah, but you've flunked that already," Jen said.

John blinked at her with bleary eyes that needed to shut for hours at least. "Bruce and Selina had business, emergency business. Can you?" His hand not gripping the doorjamb waved at Stephanie before he looked down. "Will you go with Jen?"

Stephanie let him go, trotted down the hall, and regarded Jen.

He yawned wide enough to swallow a Big Mac whole. "Sorry to dump this on you."

"Go to bed, we'll be fine." He didn't fall over as he shut his door. Jen looked down at the little girl. "He had a late night."

"Beating up bad guys."

"The security job, right. Come on, let's get dressed." They headed to Jen's room first. Her blue jeans and a sweater didn't take long to pull on and she ignored make-up since she was going out as innocent Jennifer Kyle to tour university campuses and churches. 

They found Alfred laying out clothes on Stephanie's bed. "There you are, Miss Stephanie. You were not supposed to wake up Miss Jen."

"Uncle John did." Stephanie picked up the sweater on her bed.

"You shouldn't have woken Master Blake either." Alfred closed the wardrobe.

"I don't think I did."

"I'll get her dressed, Alfred," Jen said. Selina had told her how she found the kid, and Jen was all for not setting Stephanie off again this morning.

The older man let his relief show. "Very well, waffles for breakfast."

"Not Cocoa Puffs?" Stephanie's lower lip trembled.

"And Cocoa Puffs for you," he promised with a smile. Boy, that promise got clothes on the kid faster than anything Jen had ever seen. Luckily, she got the toothpaste tube before Stephanie squeezed it all out in her excitement.

The waffles were still warm on the counter. Jen ate half of it before she asked, "So what emergency did Bruce and Selina have this morning?"

"They had to meet with Mr. Lorry, Master Wayne's lawyer, and CPS." Alfred refilled Jen's juice glass.

Jen nodded. "Well, Stephanie agreed to help me pick out a college, so we'll make a day of it. You can call us if we need to come back early."

"Miss Selina was most insistent that you are not the live-in nanny, Miss Jen."

That was nice of her, but Jen was certain this was covered by aunt privileges. "Special circumstances today so I'm volunteering. You can call us back if we're needed."

Alfred conceded that Stephanie was going with Jen, especially after Stephanie finished her cereal and put on her coat without saying anything to either grown-up. They rode the elevated train to Hudson University's campus on South Channel Island first. Stephanie bounced in her seat to look out the window. "Bruce's daddy built this train. Did you know that?"

"I heard it was Wayne Enterprises. I didn't know it was Bruce's father." Jen bit her lip, but plunged ahead. "We need to have a serious talk, Stephanie."

She stopped bouncing and looked at her. "About the lawyer?"

"Nope, about Alfred. You aren't scared of him. I know what it's like to be scared of all men."

"Alfred won't hurt me. I know that."

"So why won't you stay with him?"

Stephanie watched her feet as she kicked. "Bruce says he's not mad, but him and Alfred," she kicked harder. "Maybe they should scream about it already."

Jen remembered Bruce's reaction yesterday and everything she and Selina had talked about. "Alfred and Bruce are fighting over the wedding? But it's not a real fight, just everybody tense and annoyed."

Stephanie nodded.

"It's time for them to get over that. I think we need to be sneaky."

"Sneaky?"

Jen nodded. "You want to help me find a church for the wedding?"

"Will that make Bruce and Selina mad?"

"I don't think so. They've got so many decisions to make; it's making them grumpy to make more. Does that make sense?"

Stephanie slumped against the seat. "Being a grown-up is hard."

Jen nodded at that truth from a baby and hustled them off at the Hudson University station. The campus looked like it was never touched by the Occupation. The roads were clean and ice free, the buildings lacked any explosion marks, and the sidewalks were crowded with young adults heading into the same academic buildings Jen needed to go to. Stephanie clung to Jen's hand without much prompting.

They toured the campus as part of a larger group and got brochures outlining the next steps to enroll. Jen bought them both drinks at the student union. "I don't know if I'm smart enough for more school," she admitted as she scanned the glossy brochures and the printed-on-computer-paper ones.

"Don't you need school for a job?" Stephanie asked before pulling her drink down where she could use the straw.

"Yeah, I'm just freaking out about all the choices. Finding a church should be easy compared to all this." She dumped the brochures into her purse. "The church I want to check out is Uptown, so we'll go there next and then we'll head Downtown to see Gotham University before going home, okay?"

"Okay."

"And if they're through with their legal stuff, Bruce and Selina have to help me pick which one."

Stephanie sucked the last of her juice.

Jen took that as her cue not to trouble the little girl with her education woes and they headed back to the elevated train, getting off at the West Malcolm Street station. They walked down the street toward Liberty Queen Park where the Liberty River split into the Queen and North Rivers that flowed around Gotham. "Selina and I were kids in this neighborhood before our parents died."

"You used to live here?" Stephanie jumped over the crack in the sidewalk.

"When I was your age. Selina avoids the neighborhood, but hopefully she won't be as stubborn as Bruce about the past."

"She can be."

"Trust me, I know." They stopped on the sidewalk in front of a limestone Gothic tower. They craned their heads as the bells rang marking the hour. "Wow, I thought this place was in worse shape. Come on." Jen led the way around the corner to the multiple smaller arches around the wooden doors that looked like a whole story high covered with scrolling metal decorations.

"Is this a penthouse church?" Stephanie asked.

"No, all churches are supposed to be fancy." Jen tugged the door open and they stepped into the warm, stone interior that looked like a castle. She remembered this place and someone always taking her princess hat away from her before they got inside. The interior doors were open to the nave that extended to the end of the block. Jen gaped at the cathedral arched ceiling, the stained glass windows on the main floor and above the balcony that cast jewel tones over the neutral stonework and warm wooden pews, and the chandeliers hanging in mid-air. A few people sat scattered in the sea of pews, but they didn't turn to look behind them.

Stephanie tugged on her hand. "Look." The little girl pulled Jen to the brass plaque on the wall. "What does that say?"

Jen focused on the metal. "Liberty Church Restoration Project, Wayne Foundation, a bunch of people's names. What does Bruce have to do with this church?"

"The Wayne Foundation donated the largest amount to restore the Church a few years ago." An older man with salt and pepper hair said behind them. "I'm Reverend Manette, can I help you?"

"Hi, Jen Kyle." She shook the Reverend's hand. "My parents brought me and my sister to this church when I was a little girl." Which was the reason she started the search here that maybe a church from Selina's past would be acceptable to Bruce and Alfred, but she hadn't expected it to be so beautiful. She wanted a new princess hat. "And it's connected to the Waynes?"

"What in Gotham isn't connected to the Waynes? The family helped build the Church and a Wayne was one of the first reverends."

"Do you do weddings?"

* * *

Stephanie climbed on a chair next to the metal sign when the grown-up talking turned to wedding stuff. She traced her finger against the W. Bruce put W's on a lot of stuff. It was on the building where they watched the fireworks and on the floors and walls inside the building where he worked. It was on the paper he kept in the library that he gave her to color on when she finished her coloring book. It was on the dishes at the penthouse. It was even on some of his clothes. Aunt Jen was surprised to see it here on a church. Stephanie was surprised it was so small.

"W-A-Y-N-E can spell nay we, any we, ya new, and ay wen, but on that sign it spells Wayne. Is that your last name, little girl?"

Stephanie twisted her stiff body to face the unfamiliar male voice. He wore a green hat and a suit jacket like Bruce's only green to match the hat. He smiled but the Bad Man had smiled at her too.

Selina and Uncle John had told her what to do if a stranger separated her from everyone she knew. She screamed. The Green Hat Man raised his hands. She screamed again and jumped off the chair. Under the wooden benches, he couldn't crawl under there. She scrambled under three of them.

"Hey!" Aunt Jen yelled and it bounced off the stone walls. "What did you do to her?"

"Merely greeted her and asked her name. I apologize for upsetting your daughter."

Stephanie saw the green leather shoes leave the church before black pants blocked her view of the door. Aunt Jen dropped to her hands and knees and looked under the benches. "He's gone, sweetie. Can you come out for me?"

"Want Selina." She was willing to wait right where she was until Selina came. Just in case that Green Hat Man needed Catwoman to beat him up.

"She's at the meeting, remember? We can go straight home, but you have to come out."

Stephanie frowned. Home was safe and Alfred would use his scary voice and Uncle John would wake up and Green Hat Man and other scary men couldn't go up the elevator. She crawled out from under the benches.

Jen scooped Stephanie off the floor and turned to Reverend Manette. "I am so sorry."

"It's all right. I'm just glad the child is all right."

Stephanie tightened her legs around Jen's waist. Jen directed her comments to the nice man. "I'll bring my sister by, hopefully tomorrow. Sorry again." Jen carried her out of the church. She clung to Jen's neck as they rode the elevated train back to the penthouse. She let the woman carry her, even though she could walk. It felt better to know where the grown-up was. Jen shifted her arms to press the elevator talk button. "It's Jen and Stephanie, Alfred. Let us in. I don't remember how to work the elevator."

"Very good, Miss Jen." Alfred's voice came out through the speaker. Stephanie pressed her ear on Jen's shoulder.

Uncle John met them when the elevator doors opened. "Hey, what happened?"

"This jerk from a Lucky Charms box spooked her." Jen's voice vibrated with anger. Stephanie's body shook.

A third hand rubbed Stephanie's back between her shoulders before Uncle John's face moved in front of hers. "Did he hurt you?"

Stephanie lifted her head. "He got between me and Aunt Jen. I screamed and ran under the benches."

"That's what I told you to do. Did he chase you?"

"No, he left."

"Do I need to go beat him up? I'll go find him if you want me to."

Stephanie peered at Uncle John's face. His lips turned up in a smile, but his brown eyes were as serious as she had ever seen him. "That's okay. He left us alone. Can I go play now?"

"Sure, if you want to." Jen set her on her feet. Stephanie circled around the kitchen to the elevator and went up to her room. Her doll named Selina sat on the bed. Stephanie moved her to the table and chairs, and put out pretend tea while she told Selina-doll about her adventures today. Before she got to their finding the church, Alfred brought sandwiches and milk. Selina-doll heard about the Green Hat Man while they ate lunch at a pretend restaurant.

Selina-doll agreed that it was smart not to send Uncle John after Green Hat Man. Nightwing had to look after the whole city since Bruce and Selina couldn't be Batman and Catwoman right now. Green Hat Man probably got on his cereal box, and Nightwing would waste time in grocery stores.

Stephanie pulled out the crayons and blank paper. She finished drawing the bridge around the Tumbler when she heard the knock on her open door. She looked at Alfred standing there. "Sorry to disturb you, Miss Stephanie, but Master Wayne and Miss Selina have returned and brought someone who wants to talk to you."

"Talk to me? Okay." She left the crayons on the table and walked with Alfred to the elevator. He looked like he needed a hand holding, so she curled her hand around his finger. Alfred looked down, but she looked out as the elevator doors opened.

Selina and Bruce sat in the kitchen. Uncle John and Aunt Jen sat at the TV, but it was off. Everyone's faces kept turning to the old woman sitting next to the fireplace and writing on a tablet. Stephanie stopped walking and Alfred stopped too.

Bruce saw her and nudged Selina. She swung off the stool and headed to them with Bruce following. "Stephanie, sweetie, come meet Miss Katherine Pross from Child Protection Services. She needs to ask you some questions."

Stephanie took Selina's hand and squeezed it. "I won't go. Don't send me away, please!"

Both Bruce and Selina flinched, but Bruce spoke first. "No one is sending you away."

Miss Pross walked over to them. "Hello, Stephanie. I'm just here to talk to you."

"Mrs. Young always yelled she was calling Child Protection to take her kids away." Stephanie didn't budge from Selina's side.

"That's not my job. My job is to make sure you're safe and healthy. So let's come over here and have a talk. Mr. Wayne and Ms. Kyle will be right here, if that makes you feel better."

She looked at Selina. Selina's smile was tight. "We'll be right here. It's okay."

Stephanie eased her hand from Selina's when Bruce touched Selina's back. She didn't take Miss Pross hand as they walked to the orange benches. Her black hair had grey lines running back to the bun and her eyes crinkled as she smiled. "All I want to do is ask you some questions. They may upset you, but it's important for you to answer them honestly, okay?" Stephanie nodded. "How long have you been staying with Ms. Kyle and Mr. Wayne?"

"Since Batman blew up the bomb." That was okay. Everybody but Alfred told her to use the special names for the masks.

"Do you like it here?" Stephanie nodded hard. "Do you want to stay with Ms. Kyle and Mr. Wayne?"

"I just told you that." Stephanie crossed her arms.

Miss Pross nodded. "I have to make sure. Are you scared of anyone?"

"Nobody scary here. They keep the scary men away from me." Aunt Jen was slower at it, but it was mean to say that after she carried her all the way from the church.

"Was somebody scary before they found you?"

Stephanie pulled her legs onto the bench and hugged them tight so she was a ball. "No talk about Bad Man."

"I'm sorry I have to ask this, but what did the bad man do to you?"

She dropped her voice. She didn't want Bruce punching walls in front of Miss Pross. "Sex."

"How long were you with the bad man?"

Her nose scrunched. "A night? The Evermonds said I had to go with him and it as almost dark. Catwoman beat him up when it was daylight."

"How long were you with the Evermonds?"

"Forever." A new worry slid around Stephanie's stomach. "I don't wanna go back to them. Bruce and Selina got me clothes and toys and a bedroom. And they read to me and take me to the playground and work. And Alfred can cook."

Miss Pross shook her head. "You won't go back to the Evermonds. What about your mother? Did she stay with the Evermonds too?"

"Everybody always said they weren't my mommy."

"Everybody?"

"The ladies who hung around for Mr. Evermonds' medicine."

"What did they say about your father?"

"Same thing." She pressed her heel into the seat cushion.

"Did you see the bad man give Mr. Evermond money?" Stephanie shook her head. "Catwoman rescued you from the bad man?" Miss Pross asked next.

"Nightwing helped."

The older woman nodded. "Did Mr. Wayne give Catwoman money?" Stephanie's eyes narrowed. Bruce had given Selina lots of things, but that wasn't what Miss Pross was asking. "What did Mr. Wayne and Ms. Kyle give Catwoman to keep you?" she asked.

The Bad Man paid Mr. Evermond money so he could have her. The worry caught on fire inside her. "You're lying! You think Bruce and Selina did bad to get me. They're good. Catwoman's good. No more questions!" She leaped off the bench and ran to the kitchen. Bruce was still hurt, so he could hold her while Selina punched the lying woman. She reached the counter, jumped and Bruce caught her before she landed on his knees. Her arms circled his neck. "No more questions," she said into his shirt.

"She got that from your press conference," Selina said.

Bruce's hand rubbed Stephanie's back. "Stephanie, you have to answer--"

"It's all right, Mr. Wayne," Miss Pross said. Why wasn't Selina punching her? Miss Pross' voice moved closer. "I'm sorry I upset you, Stephanie. We're finished with the questions, but I'd like to see your room."

Stephanie looked up. Miss Pross' wrinkles shifted up with her smile as she stood next to Bruce. "Bruce and Selina come too."

"Of course."

Stephanie grabbed both their hands after Bruce set her down. The group went through the kitchen to the elevator.

"The fire pit and the staircase are not child safe," Miss Pross said once they were inside the elevator.

"We've had a fire burning since we moved in," Bruce said. "Stephanie has never gone near it."

"Fire bad," Stephanie said.

"This elevator is closest to our rooms, so she mostly uses it instead of the stairs," Selina said.

Miss Pross nodded and wrote on her computer again. Stephanie let go of Bruce and Selina when they reached her room and hugged Selina-doll to her chest. Miss Pross smiled at her before going into the bathroom. "Any problems with bath time?"

"I stopped splashing you," Stephanie said to Selina.

"Yes, you did. She doesn't fight taking them and I've been the one helping her. Jen might have to help once I get bigger."

"That's understandable." Miss Pross waved at the closets. "Her clothes are in here?" Bruce nodded as he opened them. "Thank you. Overall, you've both been doing a fine job with Stephanie." Bruce scooped Stephanie and Selina-doll as they left her bedroom and headed back down the elevator. "I only have two suggestions for you," Miss Pross continued, "put a screen around that fire pit and find a play group with children her age."

"John volunteers at St. Swithin's," Selina said. "There's a group Stephanie's age."

"That sounds like a place to start with supervision." They left the elevator and returned to the bottom floor. Miss Pross took her computer tablet to a flat, black purse.

"So what happens now?" Bruce asked. Stephanie clung to his shoulder, but he didn't want to put her down.

"The system never helped me or my sister," Selina said.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Kyle, but we have improved things in the years since. The final decision is up to the family court judge, but my report will show that you and Mr. Wayne have provided her first stable home in her life. Your application as foster parents has been approved, so there is no reason to relocate Stephanie." Miss Pross stepped into the elevator that went down to the ground. "Have a good night."

Jen twisted in her armchair in front of the TV and waited until the elevator doors closed. "Couldn't you have just bribed her?"

"She's the first child advocate back at work." Selina walked to the couch. "She practically reopened Child Protection Services. Do you really think she's bribable?"

"Guess not." Jen slumped and crossed her arms over her chest.

Bruce carried Stephanie to the couch. "Why did she come here?" she asked as Bruce set her next to Selina. "I don't want to go."

Uncle John shook his head when Bruce looked at him. "We didn't tell her. Nightwing put the Evermonds in jail last night."

Stephanie pressed her chin on Selina-doll's yellow yarn hair. "He didn't have to."

"Yeah, he did. Evermond's medicine is illegal and making people sick."

Bruce shifted beside her. "They said who your parents were, Arthur and Crystal Brown."

The names meant nothing to her. "Do they want money?"

"No, sweetie," Selina said as she brushed her hand over Stephanie's hair. "Your mother died years ago when you first lived with the Evermonds. Your father was killed during the Occupation."

"So I'm like the kids in the orphanage?"

"You're like everyone living here," Jen said.

Selina pushed off her shoes. "Bruce and I got on a fast track to adopt you. Miss Pross' job is to make sure we'd do a good job."

"Adopt? What's that?"

"Legally, we'd become your mother and father, and you'll be the big sister to the baby." Bruce looked at her. "Do you want that?"

Stephanie squeezed Selina-doll tighter. "Nobody will take me away?"

"Not without pissing all of us off," Selina said.

"We won't let anyone take you away," Bruce said.

The worry worming through her poofed away. Stephanie stood on the couch, left Selina-doll sitting, turned around, and hugged Selina and Bruce with one arm around their necks. "I want! I want!" Their arms reached around her and their faces pressed against hers.

"So we better get the wedding out of the way so you two look better for the judge," Jen said.

"Not you too," Selina answered.

Stephanie pulled back so she could see Selina and Bruce's faces. "We found a church with your name on it."

"We were supposed to ease into that, you little spoiler," Jen said.

Bruce's forehead wrinkled. "Why would my name be on a church?"


	19. Chapter Nineteen

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 21

Reverend Manette picked the hymnal off the pew and slipped it back into the holder. Less people needed the church's solitude as the month of January progressed. He accepted that as a sign the community was healing. Soon he would need to focus his attention on outreach. Maranatha had scaled back during the Occupation, and the Prison Ministry halted altogether once Blackgate was opened. Those poor souls needed the word of God now more than ever.

Footsteps echoed into the nave and Manette looked down the aisle. The shorter blonde woman tugged the taller brunette woman toward him. He recognized the young lady looking for a wedding venue yesterday. The little girl who hid under the pews was taking a young man to the renovation dedication plaque. Manette approached the ladies and overheard the brunette. "This is too much. We don't want to put on a show. Bad enough they're already referring to me as Cinderella."

"Only because somebody snapped a picture of you moving boxes. Most of them are referring to you as Bruce's princess."

"That's not better," the brunette said.

Manette reached them. "Good morning, ladies, welcome to the Liberty Church. You were looking for a wedding venue here because you attended as children?"

"Yep, Jen Kyle and this is my sister, Selina, the bride. This is Reverend Manette."

Selina Kyle shook his hand. "We moved away after our parents died, but this church looked much worse then."

"On its way to being condemned," he chuckled at her tact. "It was a close shave, but the Wayne Foundation came through for us in the end." He waved his hand at the restored nave.

"Told you it was best for both of you," Jen said.

"It's fitting, but we'd have to invite all of Gotham to fill the church," Selina said.

"I covered that. Tell her about the other chapels." Jen turned. "Would you two like to join us?"

The man took the little girl's hand and led her up the aisle. "Sorry, Stephanie wanted to know more about the Foundation."

Manette's jaw dropped. "Bruce Wayne?"

"He's the groom," Jen said.

"We haven't put out an announcement yet." Mr. Wayne grasped the limp hand at the end of the arm Manette raised. "Are we inviting everyone who works for me to fill this place? I'd rather not." His head tilted to look at the ceiling.

Manette shook himself. No matter how famous, every couple wanted a beautiful wedding just like every other couple that had ever booked Liberty Church. "You have a small guest list?"

"We only want to invite people important to us, not everyone who thinks they should be there for their own ego."

Jen smirked at Mr. Wayne. "What is that in a number?"

Her sister counted silently on her fingers. "Even if they each bring a guest, we're still under twenty."

Manette nodded. "I believe we have a space that will do. Follow me." He led the group through the church to a small chapel. The stone walls and the columns surrounding the trio of stained glass windows resembled a much older structure. The alter was a simple wooden table holding unlit votive candles set under a golden cross woven into the tapestry hung on the wall. "This is our Meditation Chapel. No organ, but other wedding parties have hired a harpist in our congregation. It seats twelve."

The little girl slipped from the adults and pulled herself onto her tiptoes to peer over the sill of the window. "Rainbow glass," she said.

"Size-wise, it works," Selina said, "but it's a bit bare."

"You can bring in your own decorations within the rules for them."

She nodded and turned to Mr. Wayne. "Does it work for you?"

"We'll have to let Alfred have the reception at the Manor," Mr. Wayne said.

"The party doesn't matter."

"You say that until it gets crashed." Mr. Wayne turned to Manette. "So what is the earliest date we can get married?"

"Come along to my office and we'll find our wedding coordinator."

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 31

Selina leaned closer to the bathroom mirror and drew her mascara wand through her eyelashes. Behind her, Bruce buttoned up his shirt. "Do you mind taking Stephanie to the office with you today? Alfred said he's swamped with workers at the Manor and wedding preparations and Jen's actually enrolling today."

"I can. What have you got planned that you can't take her with you?"

She turned from the mirror and looped his dark burgundy tie around his neck. "My own wedding preparations, if you must know. I have an idea about the wedding rings." She tied a Windsor knot and tightened it. "I need your ring for it."

His hazel eyes narrowed in puzzlement but he tugged the ring off his left hand. "I doubt that's enough copper to make rose gold rings if that's what you're planning."

"It isn't." She slipped his ring onto her thumb so she wouldn't lose it. He turned down his shirt collar before absently rubbing his bare ring finger. "Should I buy you a replacement engagement ring?"

He glanced at his hand. "Silly to have gotten used to it so quickly, especially how nobody likes them."

"I like them just fine." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Who told you our opinion counts?" he said before kissing her.

Her arms tightened around him and she was tempted to keep them there for the rest of the day, but Stephanie's voice piped from the door. "I'm ready to go to work when you two stop kissing."

Bruce let go of Selina's hips as they broke apart. "Are you? You even got your own bag."

"Alfred helped me pack it." She swung the laptop bag that was bigger than her waist. "So I have plenty to do too."

"Good plan." Bruce turned to Selina and she swiped the lipstick off his lips with her thumb. "Thanks. Do you need a lift? Or would that give the surprise away?"

"You can drop me off at Moench Jewelers."

Bruce didn't ask any questions on the drive, though if he had she would have told him that Mr. Moench didn't just sell jewelry, he designed pieces that suited his fancy. It was an old family business and he had to give up the creation to focus on selling.

The showroom's glass cases were whole, but only half-stocked. She looked over his selection of David Yurman rings and cuff links while Moench finished with his customer. The young woman finally left with her purchase. "How can I help you, miss?" He moved in front of Selina with a nod.

"I need a pair of wedding bands made of white gold."

"I have many white gold bands in stock."

"But I want these copper rings," she paused to tug them off her ring finger and thumb and replace the cat's eye ring, "inlaid into the white gold without melting the two together. Can you do that?"

Mr. Moench stared at her engagement ring before grinning broad enough to touch the curls framing his face with the corners of his mouth. "The girl who says diamonds are traveling money! Yes, I'd be honored to make your wedding bands. He was so worried you wouldn't like that one. Let me get my receipt book."

Selina turned to the necklace displays on the wall that looked about twenty years old. The merchandise inside was newer. She wanted to get something for Stephanie when they formalized the adoption and if she could hide a tracking device panic button in it, even better. There was a cat-shaped pendent on a gold chain in the center of the display. The body and head was made from a lavender tanzanite with gold ears, whiskers, and tail extending from the setting.  
  


Next to it was a smaller pendent of the Batman logo carved in onyx and hung from a silver chain. It was smaller than the cat, and it gave her an idea. She moved back to the David Yurman display. The cuff links would work well for Lucius and Alfred.

Mr. Moench returned and wrote up her work order along with a receipt for the copper rings. "I will take good care of your rings. He made these for you, yes? Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"I'd like a few things for gifts: the tanzanite cat and the onyx Batman logo pendants, the onyx and the black mother-of-pearl sets of David Yurman cuff links, and the single-row sapphire ring in the black titanium."

"The nervous young man did not like giving up his ring." Mr. Moench chuckled. "So when will the happy news go into the papers?"

"Next week, I think. Our wedding planner is in charge of that."

With everything purchased and boxed up in an unmarked shopping bag, Selina decided she should go back to the penthouse first and let Alfred pick out which pair of cuff links he preferred as well as secure Bruce's engagement ring. No sense tempting idiots while she ran her errands. The elevator doors opened to the sound of a power saw.

The young African-American man in safety glasses lifted the miter saw blade and the sound ended. "The butler-dude is gonna be pissed."

"Don't worry; I won't let him take it out on you. Do whatever you're supposed to be doing." She headed up the stairs rather than navigate around the kitchen turned into a construction zone. Bruce had a fireproof wall safe in the library. More people were hammering at the other end of the hall and it echoed down the second floor. She squashed her curiosity long enough to crack the safe's combination and put Bruce's ring inside. Then she moved down the hall.

At the end of the smaller hallway past the doors to the gym and Stephanie's bedroom, Jerry Cruncher hammered two-by-fours into place against the marble walls and plaster ceiling while Alfred watched. It looked like a skeleton wall with a hole in the center. "Aw, he got me a door."

Both men jumped when she spoke. Alfred whirled around. "Miss Kyle! Master Wayne wanted it to be a surprise."

"Then he should've told me to stay out until dark. Hi Jerry!"

"Hi Selina." He picked up a level and held it against the wood. "Don't mind me, we're on the clock."

"I only came home to ask Alfred something, carry on." Alfred followed her back to the library. She set her purse and the shopping bag on the desk and dug out the cuff links. "Pick the pair you will wear." He lofted an eyebrow at her. She matched it right back at him. "Look, I'm cooperating with your introduce everyone to the soon-to-be Mrs. Wayne party, so cooperate with me on the whole wearing a tracking device thing."

She startled him again, but the mask of training held over his features except for his eyes. "Everyone invited to the birthday party has been a friend of the Wayne family or Bruce personally."

"And can make trouble if they don't approve of me. I appreciate the introduction before the wedding craziness."

"Did Master Wayne talk to you about it?"

"Beyond grumbling about social obligations and thanking me for not letting it become a three-ring circus no, he hasn't." She tilted her head. "Or did you think I'm not smart enough to figure out what the party is really for on my own?"

He shook his head. "I did assume on a lack of experience with social obligations, but not a lack of mental acumen. Master Wayne wouldn't be so taken with you if you did not match him in every way."

"Thank you. Now pick one." She shook the cuff link boxes again.

"I have tried everything I could think of to stop his stalking people."

"It's a lost cause now, but hey you get a pretty with it to wear instead of a microchip." Alfred scowled at the cuff links. "He has me covered head-to-toe and I'm not bitchin'."

"What you and Master Wayne agree to--"

"We agreed to go find you," she interrupted, "because he didn't know if you were safe or Bane's prisoner or worse. And I really hate to say it, but Bane proved his point. So please pick a cuff link and wear the tracking device before he decides to screw the jewelry compromise and goes back to the microchip."

Alfred sighed and tapped the black onyx set. "The whole idea is ridiculous."

"Completely," Selina nodded. "But we love Bruce, so what can we do." She packed the jewelry boxes into her purse. "I'm off again. Don't take it out on Jerry's crew that I found out about the surprise. You've terrorized the one on the saw."

"Of course not, Miss Selina."

Selina headed to Wayne Enterprises. Lucius' office was still next to the boardroom. He pulled off his wire-rimmed glasses and smiled broadly. "Hello, Selina, what brings you here?"

"Hi, Lucius, I've got a special project--"

The phone rang and interrupted her. Lucius pressed the speaker button. "Fox."

"Have we branched into wedding dresses, Lucius?" Bruce asked.

She rolled her eyes while Lucius bit his lip. "No speaker," she mouthed.

"Are you on speaker phone?" Lucius asked.

There was a click over the phone. "I'm not now. What's wrong?"

"I'm getting Fox's help on a surprise for Stephanie," Selina answered. "And you're supposed to be working, not monitoring the security feeds."

"I'm multitasking. Are you riding home with us?"

"No, I still have another errand after this one."

"Fine, I'll keep her distracted. Good-bye."

Selina shook her head. "Is that what he does all day when he comes here?"

He chuckled. "No, I usually keep him better occupied than that, but the meeting we had scheduled was altered by the other party. Now what do you need from me?"

She pulled the jewelry boxes from her purse. "Tracking devices. This pair is for Alfred," she opened the onyx cuff links box. "This pair is for you unless you have something you like better." She passed him the black mother-of-pearl cuff links.

"I had hoped Bruce had forgotten about that," he sighed.

"And how often has that happened?"

Lucius shook his head. "What do you have planned for Stephanie?"

"Tracking device and a panic button." She opened the cat pendant box and turned it over to show the metal back with star cutouts to light up the tanzanite. "And I thought this could be the button." She tugged the Batman logo pendant free of its box and set it against the cat's body near the bottom.

He grinned. "Leave everything with me and I'll get it done."

_And probably think of three more things to add to each of them,_ she thought to herself as she left. That took care of the easy part of the day. She went to Gotham First National, withdrew a thousand in different denominations, and then rode the elevated train into Old Town. She and Jen needed to clear out the walk-up, but she headed down a different street today.

Gaspard's Pawn Shop was closed, but that didn't mean business wasn't occurring. She went in the side door that opened to a flight of stairs to the apartments on the second floor of the building. There were multiple units, but the largest on the end was the one she knocked on. The blond-haired man opened it and leaned in the door jamb. "Selina Kyle." He ran his hand over his trim oblique covered by a navy T-shirt until it rested on his jeans' waistband. "You finally cleaned your mark out and need me to move the goods?"

Selina raised her eyebrows. "I don't discuss business in public, Gaspard."

"Please grace my humble abode." He held the door open. Selina stepped past him and into a tasteful Art Deco living room. "Five thousand for the ring you're wearing." He shut the door. "Best deal you'll get in Gotham right now."

"And that's why I never fenced with you. I know what the stuff I take is worth. I'm looking for an item too hot for you to handle."

"That's just about everything right now." He gestured for her to sit on the couch as he sprawled into a red leather chair with circular arms covered in black leather. She eased down onto the black leather cushions on the gilt-framed sofa. "The police don't have an inventory from everyone brought low by Bane's Army," Gaspard continued, "but they have enough of a list to come looking at everyone rumored to relocate questionable items. Now it's a weekly check-in."

"Not that they've gotten anything back."

He brushed his long bangs from his eyes. "Au contraire, I gave them everything I had on their list. I have no desire to find out how long I last in Blackgate."

She smirked at his pretty boy pout, not that she blamed him for the feeling. "I'm looking for an emerald necklace, Victorian, twenty-five teardrop and forty round emeralds with silver attachments."

He nodded with a grimace. "I've seen it. The finder was a bit insulted by my price and refused to part with it."

"A hundred for the finder's address."

"What's your interest in the bauble?"

"My job is to recover the necklace. I'd rather do it in a way that benefits everyone. Two hundred for the address."

"Sold." He rattled it off and she fished two Benjamins out of her purse. "It's none of my business, but are you sure you should still be working?"

"I'm selective with the jobs right now." She stood and headed toward the door.

Gaspard jumped and beat her to it. "Fair enough. Now don't scare the kid. She's not in the business."

"Of course not, that's why she came to you." Still, she was pleased to have a lead on her first stop. There were slimier and shrewder fences in Gotham than Gaspard and Bruce would insist on being around to protect her or some such nonsense. She'd never get any information nor surprise Bruce. Happily, she didn't have to worry about them unless the kid as Gaspard called her went to one of them.

The address was deeper in Old Town than the walk-up, more rundown but the inhabitants not as desperate as they were before the Occupation. Disaster relief meant regular meals. She climbed up to another walk-up on the fifth floor. She waited a bit to catch her breath and to wiggle her toes against the tightness in her shoes before knocking on the apartment door.

A petite woman about Jen's age answered it. "Can I help you?"

"I'm hoping I can help you," Selina answered. "You found an emerald necklace, didn't you?"

Gaspard was right; she wasn't in the business. She wheeled from the door and Selina let herself in. She banged her hip into a sewing table and that jolted her back to reality. "Are you with the police?" Selina shook her head. The young woman collapsed into the chair in front of the sewing machine. "Are you here to rob me?"

"If I were here to rob you, you'd never know it." Her wide eyes got wider. "The owner wants their necklace back, and hired me to find it. Can I see it to make sure it's the right one?" Selina asked.

The woman went to the kitchen area of the main room. She pulled a tinfoil-covered box from the freezer. Selina forced her eyes not to roll. Even if it wasn't Helena Wayne's heirloom, Selina would buy it simply so she could put the money in a bank and stop copying movies.

"I've never took anything before." Her hands trembled as she folded the foil back. "We went to the bank because they took so many people's houses. I found it in a desk and put it on." The green stones slid out of the thin cardboard box onto the scratched wooden tabletop. "I felt like a queen."

Selina picked up the strand ends with both hands and the teardrop emeralds clinked together. It was Helena's necklace, none the worse for wear after its adventures. "It scared you to death to wear it again."

"Nobody wants an emerald necklace to keep your lights and heat on. And I didn't take it from someone's home so why should I let the police lock me away for it?" She slumped into the chair without hitting her sewing machine.

"The owner isn't interested in pressing charges," Selina said. "He just wants a family heirloom back. I'm prepared to pay a finder's fee for it."

"I did try to sell it," she admitted. "The pawnbroker offered me two thousand dollars. I'm not stupid. I know a necklace with just one of those emeralds is worth that much."

Selina nodded. "He's rather notorious for low-balling everyone. What would you consider a fair price?" She wrote out a check for fifty thousand and tucked the necklace into her purse. She went to her and Jen's walk-up for a new box. Nobody had broken in or messed with their belongings. She'd work on hiring movers to get their stuff in one location next week. It wasn't right to make Alfred organize moving out two locations plus the wedding.

Alfred met her at the elevator door. "Master Wayne wishes to see you upstairs, Miss Selina."

"Thanks, Alfred." She handed him the necklace box. "Hide that where he won't look for it; it's a surprise for his birthday."

"Yes, miss."

She ducked into the library to get Bruce's engagement ring before moving down the hall. The new door and wall were made of a polished, dark brown wood that matched the wood accents elsewhere in the penthouse. She turned the knob and stepped inside the master suite. Bruce met her there and shut the door. "You got me a door," she purred at him.

His hazel eyes smoldered. "It's been a month. We need one now."

She never had a chance to respond because his mouth landed on hers and stole her breath away. They didn't need words she decided as she ripped off the tie she had knotted this morning. Bruce snagged her sweater over the divider again; she popped all the buttons off his shirt; skin on sweaty skin was electric. Between his injuries and Stephanie needing parents, they hadn't indulged in raw sex as much as either of them desired. Her fingernails raked across his scarred back as he filled her. He avoided putting any of his weight on the baby bump as he leaned over her.

Black spots dotted her vision as she came and her head spun in response. Bruce's body shook above her on ridged arms. His face swum above her and black covered it. Her body didn't want to move, but she turned onto her side and felt Bruce's hands pushing her. She blinked as his face leaned closer to hers. He pressed a washcloth against her nose. "I'm getting Alfred." But his voice sounded so faint.

She closed her eyes. It had been a while for them, but her orgasm hit her like a concussion. She tugged the sheet over her right shoulder. No flashing Alfred. Bruce had said Alfred. Why would Alfred interrupt them? No flashing Alfred. She kicked her foot. Blanket down there too, good.

"She went as white like major blood loss and her nose started bleeding." Bruce's taunt voice opened her eyes. He saw her as he and Alfred stepped inside the dividers. "Selina," his voice cracked. She blinked at his green and orange robe as he crawled onto the bed behind her. When had he time to put that on?

Alfred--still dressed like he had been all day with his tie under his sweater--picked up her right wrist and wiped the washcloth under her nose. "How do you feel, Miss Selina?" His index and middle finger took her pulse.

"I'm a little bit dizzy, but it's going away. What happened?"

"You passed out or nearly did, and got a nosebleed." Bruce combed her hair back with his fingers.

"Were you on your back, Miss?"

Selina blinked. "I was and the books told me to start sleeping on my side. I usually do, so I didn't think about it."

"Books?" Bruce asked. Alfred let go of her wrist, so she pointed to the stack of pregnancy-how-to manuals on her nightstand.

Alfred nodded. "The weight on your veins--"

"I didn't put my weight on her," Bruce interrupted.

She couldn't see Bruce's face, but Alfred wore a well-practiced, don't-take-that-tone-with-me-young-man expression. "The baby has gained enough weight to interrupt Miss Selina's blood flow, but she'll be all right, and now both of you know better. Supper will be ready in an hour, unless you'd rather eat up here, Miss?"

"Oh no, I'll be fine in an hour. What happened to the ring box I had? Do you two see it?"

Alfred found it among their clothes on the floor. "As for your loose ends, Master Wayne, it would be just as intimate but more beneficial if you applied those skills you learned around the world and gave the mother of your child a massage instead." He handed Selina the velvet ring box and stalked out of the suite.

"I know that expression," Bruce said. "After supper, once everyone is out of earshot, I'm getting the one does not jump on the mother of one's child like a randy teenager lecture."

"Randy?" She rolled her head to look at him. "Alfred uses the word _randy_?"

He smiled but his eyes didn't crinkle. "Debutante season was the worst. I didn't want to go, but those girls conned me into being their escort and then I had that lecture before every event."

"Oh poor you," she chuckled and reached to him. He leaned so she stroked his cheek. "Well I was equally randy, should I join you for the lecture?"

"No, I'll take this one for the team. Did you get the wedding rings finished already?"

She pulled his left hand in front of her. "No, Moench is still working on them. This is for you." She opened the box and put the sapphire and black titanium ring on his finger.

"Blue and black? Isn't that Nightwing's color scheme?"

"I didn't like red and black, and black diamonds didn't appeal."

"I thought we agreed I was being stupid." Bruce looked at the ring.

She smirked. "I didn't agree to that, and you're missing your ring."

The guilt in his eyes melted. "Do you want a massage?"

"My feet hurt." He kissed her before moving to the foot of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about last week. Family stuff meant I had to spend two days away from all computers during my prime typing time. I spent every day after those typing furious, but never caught up.


	20. Chapter Twenty

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 40

Bruce rolled onto his back and rested his arm over his eyes. A month adhering to a normal schedule and he still hated morning sunshine. But he felt something was off this morning. Usually Selina curled up against him trying to escape the light. Today she wasn't. He groped the sheets within reach without uncovering his eyes.

"Are you looking for me?" Selina laughed beyond his reach.

"You're up already?"

"Moved Stephanie back to her bed and got breakfast."

He dropped his arm and propped himself up on his elbows. "You have to stop carrying her around, Selina. What if you fall?"

She set her pastry on the breakfast tray before crawling back onto the bed. Her long hair was pulled back into a messy bun above her neck. "Alfred did the heavy lifting, so stop worrying and open your present, birthday boy."

He rubbed his eyes and dragged her to his lap. "Well, that's something worth waking up too." He kissed her as his fingers unknotted the belt on her robe.

Selina laughed as she pulled back. "I'm not your present, lover." She pressed a long box against his chest.

"I told you not to get me anything. I don't want John or Jen thinking they were obligated."

"I didn't get it for just you. Open it."

He reminded himself how much he trusted Selina as he slid the black satin ribbon off the imitation black leather box. It was jewelry box, but why would Selina buy him jewelry requiring a box this big? All he wore was one ring. He opened the lid. The emeralds flashed with green fire in the morning sunlight, and the silver attachments gleamed. "Aunt Helena's necklace?"

"Our kids might want the whole story one day. It makes pretty evidence." She shifted her knees on both sides of his thighs.

"You found Aunt Helena's necklace?"

"Please, you could have if you had thought about looking."

He hadn't wanted to look. It felt churlish to worry about one necklace when others had lost so much more. Selina swooped in and took care of something causing him pain. He lifted the necklace out of the box. "There's only one thought I've had concerning this necklace." He fastened the ends around the back of her neck before untying her robe and pushing it off her shoulders. He drew her nightgown over her head and flung it aside. The emeralds made a collar around her collarbone and down her upper chest. The morning sun highlighted the chloasma on her face and her darker areolas on her larger breasts. The round swell of her belly was obvious pregnant. His hands slid down her arms as she rocked on his lap.

"I don't know if Aunt Helena would approve of your idea." Selina smirked with half-lidded eyes.

"Really? The woman who tried to join the Union Army wouldn't approve of this?" His hands roamed down her sides. "I think that necklace could tell us she did worse."

She pushed the necklace box away as she trailed her hands over his torso. "Was there more to your thought than just seeing me wearing only the necklace?" His muscles fluttered under her fingers.

"Well, it is my birthday," he said as he pulled up her hips. She freed his erection from his pajama pants and he pushed them to his knees before she impaled herself on him. He grabbed her hips with a groan.

"Happy birthday, Bruce," she said and kissed him. They had experimented since he had healed. This position with no pressure on Selina's back and where he stroked her sweaty skin and kissed along her jaw and throat was quickly becoming a favorite. She tossed her head back as his lips closed over her nipple of her swollen breast.

Her hands strummed his back like it was a guitar as she found a rhythm. He delved one hand between them and teased her clit. Both their orgasms were loud enough to justify the doors soundproofing the master suite. They leaned against the headboard and each other as they panted. "And many more," he said when he could form words.

"If we do many more of that, neither one of us will be able to walk at the party tonight." She laughed.

"Fine, let's cancel it." He nuzzled her hair.

She laughed again. "We can do that and still live under the same roof with Alfred?"

"We can't. Pass me the bagel and the newspaper." She took the items from the breakfast tray while he freed her robe and the necklace box from the tangled sheets. The headline above the fold concerned what trouble the national government had in the Middle East. He bit into the bagel, turned the paper over, and the dense bread muffled the sound he made. The headline under the fold read "Bruce Wayne Engaged" with multiple exclamation points. The headline of the smaller inserted article read "Who is the mysterious woman who snared the Prince of Gotham City?"

"Since you don't need the Heimlich, I'll see how the television news media is covering us." Selina closed the necklace box and walked out of the bed area.

He swallowed. "Have you read this?"

"Alfred warned me it would upset you."

The television set clicked on while he pulled up his pajama pants. The weatherperson prattled about the snowstorm forecasted for the end of the week. He shrugged on his robe as he picked up his bagel and joined her in the sitting area. "Alfred warned you."

"Because the interview requests have started pouring in. How do we feel about _Gotham Tonight_?"

He sat in the armchair that let him watch her and turn his head to the television set. "They're good at poking into every aspect, especially if Mike Engle is back in the producer position."

Selina stretched her now bare neck. "It may be best to give an exclusive scoop to the ones who have that reputation. And they did a good job keeping people informed during the Occupation." He grunted noncommittally. "Eat your breakfast; it'll be a long day," she added.

The camera shifted to the news anchor team and then focused on Summer Gleeson. "If you have been harboring doubts that the Occupation of Gotham has changed billionaire Bruce Wayne, he surprised the city today with his engagement announcement." She grinned into the camera.

It shifted to show her partner at the news desk. "No more dating all the Miss America contestants en masse," he laughed.

"I only did that once," Bruce said at the television.

"I doubt the soon-to-be Mrs. Wayne will let Bruce stunt date after they say 'I do,'" Summer said. "And I can't be the only one in Gotham seething that our most eligible bachelor is off the market and burning with curiosity over the woman who caught him. The announcement published in the _Gotham Times_ gives her name as Selina Kyle. No one by that name has worked as an actress or a model in the city. We haven't confirmed if Miss Kyle is the same woman who has been seen with Bruce Wayne since the Occupation ended."

"It must mean something if you've been with the same woman for over a month," Selina said with a smirk.

Bruce bit into his bagel.

"This is the most recent footage we have of that mysterious woman who we think is Miss Kyle." Summer's voice came over a shot of Selina and Stephanie leaving the building's main door. "Rumor has it that the couple is adopting the little girl who has also been seen with Bruce Wayne since the Occupation ended."

"Are they allowed to bring Stephanie up? Isn't that against her rights?" Selina asked. His mouth was full and he couldn't answer her.

"Is that a baby bump?" The male news caster asked over the zoom-in on Selina's pregnant profile. "No announcement about that from Wayne's people?"

"I swear I used that EMP emitter fob when we went to St. Swithin's."

He swallowed. "Judging by the zoom, the camera was out of range."

"It's obvious how Selina Kyle snagged him," Summer said through a forced grin as the screen returned to the studio.

"Now Summer, don't be catty," her partner said. "According to Dr. Linda Page, Gotham City will have a baby boom thanks to the Occupation."

"Great, now I owe Jen lunch," Selina said. "Serves me right for believing that they wouldn't claim I got pregnant on purpose."

"This is what I wanted to spare us." He set the saucer with the remains of his bagel onto the side table.

"It's just annoying, Bruce. But at least this exposure earns sympathy points for us instead of letting everyone stew on what kind of gold-digging slut you settled on." She pushed out of her chair and stretched.

It was no surprise in phrasing; they had talked about her image. The surprise was the physical pain upon hearing those words referring to Selina when the protocol was in motion. His stomach roiled. "If anyone refers to you as that--"

"You can have them after I'm done with them."

"I'm serious, Selina."

"So am I." She turned the corner to the bathroom.

Her self-assurance did not pacify him. He changed into sweat pants and a T-shirt and stormed into the gym. He cycled through sit-ups, push-ups, and pull-ups. They weren't enough to make his brain stop dwelling on it. He doubted anyone invited tonight would be rude enough to bring it up at the party, but he wanted to protect Selina, Stephanie, and the baby from anything said outside of his hearing.

The door opened and closed. Bruce didn't shift is gaze from the mat between his hands as he pushed up and down. "Alfred told me to stop you from getting bruises we can't explain to your guests. He didn't tell me what to do if you weren't punching anything," Blake said.

Bruce paused in Plank pose before relaxing into seiza. "I won't ruin his party."

"It's your birthday."

"And I'd rather take Selina and leave the country."

Blake perched in a weight bench. "You tried checking out already. Remember how that worked out?"

He shook his head. There was the brash young man who refused to leave until he told the hard truths he knew. "Try not to be so blunt with the guests."

"You took the truth well."

"Yes, but I'm me." Bruce stood.

"Point." Blake followed him out of the gym. "Get dressed and stay out of the caterers' way. Last orders from Alfred."

Stephanie's door flung open and she barreled into Bruce's legs, pinning them in place with a hug. "Happy birthday, Bruce! Can I wear my princess dress, please, please, please?"

"What did Selina say about the dress?"

"She picked out a different dress." Stephanie pouted at him. "It's not as pretty as the princess dress."

"You look pretty in everything, but I think we're saving the princess dress for the wedding."

Her pout vanished. "I can wear it for the wedding?"

Bruce nodded. "If I have to wear a morning dress suit, you can wear the princess dress."

Stephanie squealed and ran back into her room. Blake snorted. "I hope Alfred or Selina didn't plan for her to wear something else."

"They keep telling me it's my wedding too. Time to see if that's true."

* * *

Alfred had to allow one of the catering staff circulate the drinks since he had to greet the guests and take their coats at the elevator door. It was a small enough gathering and the room so open, he still considered himself on hand for any emergency. The guests were arriving promptly, fueled by curiosity over Miss Kyle.

Mrs. Fredericks rushed to Bruce and Selina with a maternal grin. "Bruce, you should have told us weeks ago. When is the wedding?"

"February nineteenth," Bruce answered. "The invitations went out yesterday."

"You aren't giving us much time to get ready for a Wayne celebration. Douglas has his black tie, so don't mind me who wants a new gown." She turned to Selina. The younger woman wore a new black lace cocktail dress with a sapphire blue sleeveless lining underneath. The black sash around the empire waist emphasized her stage of pregnancy rather than hide it away. "I know this isn't an engagement party, but I can't wait to meet your family."

Selina smiled. "My sister Jennifer is over there." She gestured to Jen who sat on the other side of the fireplace sipping her drink. "Our parents died in a car accident when we were children."

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

The elevator brought up the next batch of guests, including Lucius Fox and Mr. and Mrs. Cruncher. Selina smiled as she greeted them. "Lucius, you haven't been scaring the Crunchers with horror stories about the birthday boy, have you?"

He grinned. "Not at all, just assuring them that this is for Stephanie." He held up a box gift-wrapped in silver and black. Blake heard Stephanie's name and brought the little girl whose blue velveteen dress matched Selina's dress and Bruce's tie forward. "There she is! This is for you."

Stephanie frowned at Lucius. "But it's Bruce's birthday."

"But I need you to give me a review of a new prototype, not Bruce."

"Mr. Fox invented a new toy," Bruce said. Stephanie's confusion cleared. "Go ahead and open it."

She climbed into one of the orange benches next to the fireplace and tore into the wrapping paper. Selina caught the lid of the box that flew into the air and Blake seized the tissue paper before it got too close to the fire. She lifted a black figurine about six inches long with a suspiciously familiar cape. "Look, it's Batman!"

"I didn't know Wayne Enterprises had gone into toys literally," Selina said.

"Marketing assures me that demand has never been higher for any action figure," Lucius answered. "If Stephanie approves of the production sample, we can have them on store shelves for Easter."

"Our son loves toys in his Easter basket," Mrs. Cruncher said. "If we gave him nothing but chocolate, we'd have no house left by the time Mass started."

Bruce sat next to Stephanie as she turned the caped figure over in her hands. "A Batman action figure?"

"We can assign the profits to directly support the Wayne Foundation," Lucius added.

"You already have the paperwork ready."

"Awaiting your approval, Mr. Wayne."

"You don't like it?" Stephanie held up the toy with an anxious expression.

Bruce examined it with a serious countenance Alfred wished he could move closer to see if the toy was a danger to the young man's secret. He trusted Lucius and more importantly, Bruce trusted Lucius. But who know what the child would blurt out in her innocence? Stephanie moved the arms and legs for Bruce's perusal. "I like it," he said, "and the Foundation needs a steady revenue stream, but do you like it? Will kids play with it?"

She pulled back the toy. "I like it, but where's Catwoman and Nightwing?"

"We're working on them," Lucius answered. Blake inhaled his drink and coughed.

"I can keep this one?" Stephanie looked at Lucius who nodded. "Thanks, Mr. Fox!"

"Why don't you put it in your room and come back down," Bruce suggested. Stephanie hopped off the bench and ran to the other elevator.

"Don't run," Selina called after the blue blur.

Mr. Fredericks chuckled as the next elevator full of guests arrived. "You seem to be settling into fatherhood well, Bruce."

"Really?" Bruce stood about to add to his comment when Mr. Defarge joined the group.

"So the adoption bit wasn't something the media made up?" Defarge's gaze shifted to Selina. "Better be careful. Don't want to dilute your regained fortune with too many heirs."

Selina glared at him. "Bruce, darling, I don't think I've met this bachelor playmate of yours."

"Selina, this is Ernest Defarge, on the Wayne Enterprises Board of Directors." He rejoined Selina's side. "Ernest, my fiancée Selina Kyle."

"I joined the Board after Bruce gave up socializing. I suppose we have to thank you for pulling him out of the Manor."

"You don't have to thank me if you don't want to."

Bruce reached out for another guest, giving Defarge a subtle nudge that he should move on. "Harriet Allnut, so glad you could come. Selina, Harriet makes the day-to-day decisions for the Wayne Foundation."

_That could have gone much worse,_ Alfred noted to himself and decided to take Ernest Defarge's name off the guest list for all functions except when the whole Board was invited. The elevator opened again.

The red-haired young woman stepped off putting distance between herself and the other occupants. The loudest voice carried over the gathering crowd noise behind Alfred. "Commissioner, this is the perfect opportunity to end the joke that is the war on drugs and get people treatment instead of incarcerating them." Dr. Leslie Thompkins looked regally resolute in her ivory and green pantsuit.

Commissioner Gordon looked like he wanted to dash away like the red-haired young lady had. Alfred ushered them into the penthouse. "Now, now, Leslie, no politics at a birthday party."

She chuckled. "My apologies, Commissioner, for spoiling the party mood. If you'll just get me a meeting with the new mayor after the election, I'll steamroll over their objections without any help." She moved past the smaller groups. "Bruce, Selina!"

"She would do it too, wouldn't she?" Gordon passed his coat to the young man in charge of the coat room.

"Oh yes, Leslie has never been stopped in getting what she wants." Alfred's grin spread over his face uncontrollably. "We're delighted you could make it, Commissioner."

"Glad to come. Let me introduce my daughter to the hosts." Now that Leslie had moved on to speak with the Fredericks, the young lady returned to Gordon's side.

"Commissioner, thank you for coming," Bruce said as he shook his hand.

"Babs said I needed to get out of City Hall more." Gordon patted the young lady forward. "My daughter Barbara, Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle."  
  


She blushed as Bruce shook her hand. "Congratulations," she said.

"Did you get enrolled in Hudson University okay?" Selina asked.

"Dad, is there anybody you didn't tell?"

"I guess not," Gordon admitted while Selina and Bruce chuckled. "I'm proud of you."

"Hey Jen?" The blonde younger woman joined Selina. "My sister is starting at Hudson this semester too. You probably won't have any classes in common, but another friendly face--"

"Oh boy yes! I've been having mild panic attacks and Bruce's information is twenty years out of date." Jen pointed at him with her thumb.

"Eighteen," Bruce said.

"And from Princeton."

Barbara laughed. "What are you majoring in?"

Jen led her toward the glass wall. "Accounting. What's yours?"

"Library science."

"There's a science? No wonder they've always intimidated me."

Alfred greeted the last of the Board of Directors who just arrived. These were new faces, ones who inherited the shares of the directors who died in the Occupation or were voted in by the other stockholders. He welcomed them warmly and Bruce and Selina greeted them just as warmly after him. Stephanie had returned from her bedroom and now clung to Bruce and Selina's hands. Their stances invoked memories repressed for over thirty years: Thomas and Martha anchoring tiny Bruce between them at countless parties just like this one. He turned away before his eyes betrayed him and moved on to see about supper.


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 46

By her birthday--six days after Bruce's--and after living with Alfred for over a month, Selina was convinced what sneaky instincts that training had honed into Batman Bruce had learned from the English butler. Anita and Jen had ambushed her after the meal at the party and had a low-key gush about helping Selina choose a wedding dress next week. Selina didn't remember picking a dress store, much less making an appointment, but her weekly schedule Alfred presented at breakfast yesterday showed she had an appointment on her birthday at one of the most prestigious bridal salons in the city and Alfred told Bruce he better find some gasoline for the Rolls for the trip. "I'm surprised he didn't make them bring the merchandise here," she said to Bruce after the door shut behind the older man.

"He wants to make sure you get the full bridal experience," Bruce answered as he frowned at his own schedule. "And he does love that Rolls."

She fell in with Alfred's plans, saving the fight against being managed for a later date. Bruce took Stephanie to the meetings he had with Jerry Cruncher and then a trip to St. Swithin's before meeting Selina, Jen, and Alfred at the Carlyle at the end of the day. Jen and Selina piled into the rear of the Rolls. "I'm glad nobody trashed the car," Jen said as they headed to the Cruncher's home.

"It got left in the Wayne Enterprises parking garage," Selina said. "Bane kept people away from the building during the Occupation."

Jen stopped flipping through the bridal magazine she had brought. "Sorry I brought it up, sweetie. I hate thinking we owe that asshole anything. Oops, sorry, Alfred."

"It is fine, Miss Jen. I feel the same way about that villain even if I do not phrase the sentiment that way."

Selina let it go. They both knew how she registered her complaints to Bane and any discussion about that would bring up what Jen didn't know.

Anita fell into the car with an aggravated groan. "School would start this week."

"My classes start tomorrow," Jen said.

"Young Jerry's started yesterday and he doesn't want to go. By the time I get him back into the routine, it'll be summer vacation." She growled behind her clenched teeth.

"If this store serves champagne, Anita gets all of it," Jen said.

"Sorry, I'll be better once the coffee kicks in. Where are you and Bruce enrolling Stephanie?"

"We haven't talked about school yet. We still haven't heard if the adoption is approved."

"They won't turn you and Bruce down," Jen said.

"You could hire someone to home school her," Anita added.

"I don't want to end up one of those rich people who never touches their kids." Selina frowned. She was better at long term planning than this.

"The schools in the Palisades are supposed to be the best in the state," Anita said. "And they'll make room for Bruce Wayne's children."

That was likely true, but Selina hadn't put any research into it. She knew Bruce had attended boarding schools after the death of his parents. Did he think that was best for their children?

The bridal shop was on Fifth Avenue just a few blocks away from old Wayne Tower. Selina had no chance to see how Talia al Ghul's crash had been repaired before Jen and Anita shoved her inside the other building. Jen laughed. "You can't get married in a dress you already have. Besides, they won't fit in two weeks anyway."

"Stop harping on how fat I'm getting."

Their sales consultant met them at the front sales counter. "Hello, I'm Tasha, you're the Selina Kyle party?"

"Hi, I'm Selina, the bride. This is my sister Jen and my friend Anita, and we can't leave without a dress."

Tasha smiled as she led them past the blank-faced mannequins wearing sumptuous white gowns and less-detailed colored ones for bridesmaids or evening wear. "The ceremony is on the nineteenth at Liberty Church? So you need a cathedral train?" She stopped inside a small room with a large mirror propped against the wall and a brown velvety couch behind the round stand in front of the mirror. She sat down in a small chair next to the mirror frame.

Selina hung onto Jen's arm as she eased down onto the armless couch. "No cathedral train. We are getting married at Liberty Church on the nineteenth but in their Meditation Chapel."

"Bruce is wearing morning dress since it's an afternoon wedding," Jen said. "Alfred said to make sure you know that."

"And Alfred is?" Tasha asked.

"In charge of everything," Anita explained with a laugh.

"Yeah, we got out of the stereotypical mother of the bride and ended up with a butler of the groom." Jen giggled.

"He raised Bruce and wants everything perfect and proper," Selina said and ignored her inner quail that wouldn't be the result of this wedding. "My wedding dress needs to go from a morning dress wedding to a black-tie reception at Wayne Manor."

"You can change at the reception," Anita said.

"I still have to show off the wedding dress for a while."

Tasha nodded. "What about your personal style? What do you love to wear?"

"The more classical, the better," Jen answered.

"That's true, I like tailored suits and gowns, but I'm pregnant." Selina rubbed her baby bump through her blouse.

Tasha nodded. "That rules out Vera Wang, Oscar de la Renta, and Inbal Dror. Mira Zwillinger will fit your pregnancy, but that style is probably too diaphanous. Let's try concentrating the tailoring to your shoulders and cleavage, and let the rest of the dress float free from an empire waist. Unless you have your heart set on a ball gown. We can find a way to make one fit."

Selina's eyes widened. "The first option, I can't even fathom functioning in that much skirt."

"Aw, I want to see you as a powder puff!"

"Ignore my sister. Everything goes quicker that way."

Tasha nodded as she stood up. "Let me get some samples."

"This is nice." Anita ran her hand along the couch's upholstery. "I bought my wedding dress from David's Bridal. I don't know how they fit that many people in the building."

"I wanted to go see Kleinfeld, but Alfred pointed out we're having enough trouble with television cameras." Jen shook her head.

Selina forgave Alfred the wedding dress shove since he kept her from getting mobbed by the producers of _Say Yes to the Dress_. She could only imagine how they'd react trying to get Bruce Wayne's bride on their show. "We have to arrange the taping of an interview for _Gotham Tonight_ between Bruce's meetings and the wedding stuff."

"Bruce's meetings?" Jen tilted her head. "I thought they just wanted Cinderella?"

"Bruce insisted on both of us."

"He wants to protect you from the big bad reporter," Anita teased.

"You're joking but that's exactly how Bruce sees it. I've told him scowling on national television won't make them leave us alone."

"That would be a good topic for your unavoidable Barbara Walters special."

Selina shook her finger at Anita. "That's not funny. They're already contacted us about surviving the Occupation."

Tasha returned with an armful of dresses and they settled down to the serious business. Mira Zwillinger gowns were too lacy and frothy for a winter wedding and felt too exposed for a proper church wedding. Tasha brought forward a Jenny Packham gown that Selina loved only the lines would be ruined if the silver belt moved up from the waistline. Tasha got them refreshments and headed back for the gowns with empire waistlines.

Selina modeled three gowns from the Jenny Packham collection for Jen and Anita. They all agreed she looked best in the Muscari. Rhinestones created the halter, covered her sternum, wrapped around her ribs under her breasts and met the cascade covering the shoulder blades behind her back. The loose silk crepe floated over her baby bump without drawing attention to it.

Jen blinked rapidly. "Oh my god, Selina, if you don't buy that dress, I'm telling Alfred!"

Anita nodded. "That's the dress. That's the one."

So that dress and an extra-long bead edge tulle veil were bought and alterations scheduled for next week. Selina passed on the store's jewelry accessories; she knew where to get better bling. The shoes had to be bought elsewhere because her pregnant feet couldn't stand in what they offered.

Alfred drove them to their lunch reservations. Anita started ticking off the remaining items. "Foundation garments and shoes before the next fitting, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue."

"Leslie already offered me something borrowed," Selina said. "A pair of diamond earrings her parents gave her when she had her debutante ball."

"Diamonds?" Jen smirked. "You'll accept diamonds from her?"

"And I'm giving them back. Can't my engagement ring count as something old? This is fun, but I can't spend the whole two weeks before the wedding shopping."

Anita and Jen laughed at her as they entered the restaurant. Selina didn't resent their amusement, though she remembered a time when she would have because she had no attachments to the ones laughing and there was nothing in her life worth laughing about. She couldn't trust her life to any attachments and only allowed Jen in because she never should have left her sister behind. Now look at her, attachments she didn't deserve all over the place.

Taking things she didn't deserve was her skill set and she was damn proud of her skills.

During lunch and dropping Anita back at her home, they decided the cat's eye ring counted as something old, Selina needed to get something new to anchor the veil to her head, and nobody had any ideas for something blue.

"Fall back is jewelry." Jen leaned her head against the head rest. "A nice sapphire necklace maybe."

Selina shook her head. "Even if there weren't other issues, a necklace would clash with the neckline of the dress. It's covered in rhinestones," she added for Alfred's benefit.

Alfred glanced at them with the rearview mirror. "Other issues? You have a ban on sapphires as well, Miss Selina?"

"Not a ban; if Bruce's mother hadn't worn sapphires to her wedding, I'd be willing."

"Bruce's list of superstitions is longer than the wedding industry's." Jen waved her bridal magazine.

Selina saw the question in Alfred's blue eyes, but shook her head slightly. She didn't object to telling him about Bruce's reaction to finding his mother's jewelry in the safety deposit box but not in front of Jen. "The garter can be blue to cover the rhyme," he suggested as he maneuvered the car through the road construction detours.

"I thought you promised me we weren't doing anything as gauche as the bouquet and garter tosses."

He smiled. "Just because Master Wayne will not dive under your skirts for it doesn't mean you cannot wear one."

"What happens to the bouquet if you don't throw it?" Jen asked.

"We decided on an anniversary dance and will give it to the couple who has been married the longest."

"So we are having dancing at the reception even though we aren't hiring a DJ?"

Alfred sniffed. "The string quartet has provided suitable dance music for countless affairs without turning the Manor ballroom into a nightclub."

Jen shifted in her seat. "No nightclub right, but we're still doing bride and groom's first dance and et cetera?"

"I don't know about the traditional parental dances given the personal circumstances, but yes, the musicians can provide a tune for the bride and groom's first dance." Alfred pulled in front of the Carlyle while Jen frowned.

Bruce and Stephanie waited in the lobby, the four-year-old with crossed arms and a red, pinched face and the adult wary. Bruce saw Selina and Jen first and moved to intercept them. "You need to talk to her."

"What happened?" She passed him the overnight bag.

"I'm not sure and I don't know how I made it worse."

Jen shook her head. "You usually better than that with her, but I've got a question for you."

Selina trusted Bruce could manage Jen and sat next to Stephanie on the bench. "You look mad," she lied. Now that she was closer, she saw the puffed-up face was to keep tears in. "Did something happen at the office? Or St. Swithin's?"

"One of the boys said you and Bruce didn't really want me cause you have a baby coming and called me a public stunt."

_Cynical little brat, thanks for passing it on._ "You're not a publicity stunt and we love you very much." She soothed the blonde hair.

"Bruce, that's completely morbid. It's a wedding!" Jen exclaimed and then covered her mouth when everyone in the hotel lobby looked at her. Bruce pulled her closer to the outer door.

"If you love me, why do you want a night away from me?" Stephanie's chin wobbled as she stared at the floor.

"Bruce didn't say that."

"He said everybody."

Selina sighed. "Bruce got the wrong idea why I wanted this for my birthday." Stephanie looked at her. "This is where I realized I loved Bruce and where he did something stupid that he needs to make up for."

"He didn't say sorry?"

"He has, well in Bruce's way. This isn't about apologizing; it's about him not repeating the same stupid."

"So you don't want to get rid of me?"

"You are stuck with us forever, sweetie. But sometimes we'll have to take trips away from you and you'll take trips away from us. That doesn't mean anybody wants to get rid of the rest of the family, okay?" Stephanie nodded. "And if another kid tells you lies to hurt your feelings, you kick him in the leg," Selina added.

"Tara did."

Tara Ross, daughter of Blake's former partner and Blake's first honorary niece, had become Stephanie's friend on the first trip to St. Swithin's. "I like her a lot," Selina said.

"Me too." Stephanie stood up on the bench and hugged Selina's neck. Selina wrapped her arms around her body.

"Everything better now?" Bruce asked as he and Jen returned.

"I think so," Selina answered.

Stephanie let go of Selina and looked at him. "What stupid thing did you do here?"

Surprise flickered over his face. "I tried to leave Selina behind, but she followed me. I know better now."

Jen snickered. "I bet you do. Come on, short stuff, we're having a sleepover marathon of Disney movies."

"And we'll have birthday cake and ice cream tomorrow when Bruce and I get back."

"Yay, ice cream." Stephanie jumped off the bench and grabbed Jen's hand. "Bye-bye."

Bruce and Selina waved at her while they left, and then Bruce turned to her. "Wait here while I check us in." It didn't take long at the empty front desk. He carried their bag and his briefcase and escorted her to the elevator. "She was upset about us leaving for the night?"

"A boy at St. Swithin's told her that her adoption is a publicity stunt, so when you told her we were getting away from everybody--"

"She thought we want to be rid of her," he finished. "She should have told me."

"Kids don't always do what they should."

"I should know, I was the best at that. That reminds me, we need to keep the greenhouse locked. I think Alfred let the gardeners start using it again when we rebuilt the Manor." He pulled his cell phone out and typed a note on it.

"Do we have dangerous plants in the greenhouse?"

"No, an old well that I fell into and sprained my arm. I couldn't fill it in when it made another entrance to the Batcave. But Stephanie or her friends don't need to find that ladder."

That didn't make any sense, but his cell phone rang as the elevator door opened on the thirty-third floor. "You got the same room?"

He nodded as he answered the call. "Wayne." She smirked as she pressed up against him and lifted the key cards. He followed her down the hall to 3312. "The twentieth? The election is this weekend and they think all the new city officials will be ready to go by the twentieth?"

Selina opened the door and went down the smaller hallway to the living room. The window's view over Trillium Park showed the winter wonderland the city always made out of the snow-covered green space, but the street lights twinkling on didn't distract from the construction zone on the one street she could see.

"It can't be helped, but it sounds like someone thinks they've manipulated things so we won't win the bid. Who else is competing for it?" He paused behind Selina, but she didn't turn around. "I'll do some digging into those companies, and we'll make the meeting. We'll talk strategy on Thursday. Good-bye." He stepped up behind her, lifted her long brown hair over her shoulder, and kissed the back of her neck. "The honeymoon is out. I have to go to a city planning meeting on the twentieth."

She leaned against him as his arms wrapped around her. "We were planning a honeymoon?"

"I had hopes of locking us up in the master suite at the Manor and telling everyone to enter at their own risk for the rest of the week. But the meeting is bidding on repairing Gotham Stadium and I want Revitalize Gotham to get the job."

She rubbed his arms covered by his suit jacket. "It's fine. I wasn't counting on a whirlwind trip to Europe or the Caribbean right now. Not with everything that's going on. What did Jen coerce you into doing?"

"Oh the reception dances. I agreed that my dancing with her and you dancing with Alfred would make a good substitute for the mother of the groom, father of the bride dances. She didn't think you'd have a problem with it."

"Springing a deviation on Alfred where he can't hide behind I'm just the help or make a scene because everyone's watching?" She grinned. "I'd call that karmically poetic revenge for the party he's making us have."

His chuckle vibrated through her back. "Was wedding dress shopping that awful?"

"No, it wasn't, but I don't like being managed like you have to be."

"Give him time. He'll develop a whole new way to manage you." Bruce released her with a kiss behind her ear. "I'll put our stuff in the room; you figure out the room service."

She flipped her hair off her shoulder and moved to the desk. "What are you in the mood for or should I just surprise you?"

"Not chicken," he called back.

"He wants to be surprised then," she muttered. The Carlyle's edited menu offered a Beef Wellington that sounded delicious. The sides listed were okay, but she wanted a salad with a ginger dressing. She flipped through the menu when a necklace box with a red ribbon tied around it slipped over the pages.

"Happy birthday," Bruce said behind her and kissed her cheek.

"I guess neither one of us listens when it comes to no presents." She smirked as she put down the menu and took the box.

He moved around to see her face. "I bought it for you without plans to give it to you for your birthday. But you might want it for the wedding." He glanced away before her sliding the ribbon off pulled his gaze back to her and the box.

Inside was a gorgeous mass of turquoise stones. The horseshoe-shaped pendent would hang below her breasts, but the rows of paired stones making up the chain were too pointed to wear with the wedding dress. "You definitely inherited the Wayne ability to pick out fabulous jewelry, but I can't wear it with the dress I picked out."

He shrugged. "So I suppose it's fine for me to see you in it now?" He lifted it from the box and put it around her neck.

She looked down as she pulled her hair out of the way. "It will snag on this sweater." The black mohair would catch in all the metal backs of the stone.

"I have an idea." He slid the necklace under the collar and then pulled the thin sweater up over her head. His long fingers slid against her skin until the sweater was in his hands. He tossed it aside as he moved around her to see the necklace. "It still isn't hanging right."

She raised her eyebrow, enjoying the tingle his gaze on her was setting off. "Well, fix it."

His hands ran up her arms, over her shoulders, and down her back. Her skin shivered. He unclasped her bra and reversed his hands, drawing her bra down with them. The turquoise stones fell between her freed breasts. "Much better." Her bra flew through the air to join her sweater.

"I think you have a fetish with women only wearing jewelry." She planted her hands on her hips.

He drew her toward the sofa. "Not women, only you."


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 60

Her mother had predicted everything dire about her baby moving back to Gotham, but ex-Mrs. Gordon's focus on the crazies murdering on television and the raping they didn't show hadn't prepared Babs for where she found herself now. She twisted in her seat next to the stained glass window. The Meditation Chapel was built like a castle's private chapel, only with modern furniture and draped in tulle and floral swags. Two tall candelabras stood on the edges of the dais at the front of the room and the altar was covered with red roses and white lilies. Extremely low key but elegant and more restrained than she expected from one of the richest men in America. Her father was invited to Bruce Wayne's wedding and had brought her along.

That reminder made her observe the other guests again. Jen Kyle sat on the first row left of the aisle, wearing a russet evening gown. Lucius Fox sat next to the wall so the aisle seat was open. The Cruncher family was seated ahead of the Gordons. They had been at the dinner party too without their ten-year-old son. Mr. Cruncher, Jerry, was the vice-president of Bruce's construction company that wasn't connected to Wayne Enterprises. John Blake sat alone on the right-side front row. He wore the fancy tuxedo with a light grey vest as well as he wore the dark suit at the dinner party. No date, but he wasn't one of the wedding attendants either.

Dr. Leslie Thompkins, who nearly gave Dad a conniption fit going to the party, went to the first row and whispered something to Blake. He smiled as he answered. She nodded, waved hello at Mr. and Mrs. Fredericks sitting on the second row, and joined a middle-aged man with dark hair back on the third row. He hadn't been at the dinner party. Babs was grateful that she had pumped other guests for information at that party. Otherwise, she wouldn't know that both Dr. Thompkins and the Fredericks were old friends of Bruce Wayne's parents.

She turned her head as she frowned. Most of the guests had a personal connection to Bruce Wayne, except Jen who was the bride's sister and the Gordons. She had asked her father how he had scored an invite to the wedding ceremony, when the rest of the politicians had only been invited to the reception. "After the Occupation was a very strange time. And Bruce always has been a bit eccentric."

That answer explained little and satisfied even less now. Alfred Pennyworth entered the chapel with a middle-aged woman on his arm. Gordon's eyebrows rose. "That's Judge Maria Vargas, Family Court," he told her quietly as Pennyworth sat the Judge between him and Blake on the first row.

She squelched her questions as the minister and Bruce Wayne stepped out of a side room and moved before the altar. He wore the same fancy tuxedo that Blake and Pennyworth did. It had been hard enough to get her father into a regular tux for this event. The harp music changed to Wagner's "Bridal Chorus" and the audience stood on cue.

Stephanie walked down the red carpet with a bouquet of lilies. The blonde little girl wore a lavender dress with a skirt of frothy tulle and a serious expression as she counted the steps. She looked at Bruce when she reached the end of the carpet.

He smiled and gestured toward Jen. Stephanie stepped over to the older woman and stood in front of the empty seat. Then his gaze lifted to the rear of the chapel and froze. All heads turned.

The dinner party introduction to Selina Kyle hadn't been what Babs had expected. Selina was pretty, but an ordinary pretty. Bruce Wayne had been often photographed with stunning women. Why had he settled on her out of all of them?

The Selina Kyle at the rear of the chapel was a stunning princess. She glowed in the white gown that floated around her pregnant body. Her veil flowed down from the loose chignon her brown hair was tied up in to the train of her dress. The gemstones in her hair and covering the bodice of the gown glittered.

Bruce's serious face paled as Selina reached the dais. One of her hands released the bouquet of red roses and reached for him. She said something to him alone while Jen draped the train of her gown. His face melted into a large grin. He hadn't smiled like that during the party.

The minister--no Revered Manette according to the program--murmured at the pair before beaming at the audience. "Please be seated. We are gathered her today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, the joining of two hearts, the joining Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle in marriage. If there is anyone present who has just cause why this couple should not be united, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The audience held their breaths as Reverend Manette scanned them.

He nodded before continuing. "You have come together so that you may seal and strengthen your love in the presence of God and this community. Christ abundantly blesses your love; he strengthens you so that you may assume the duties of marriage in mutual and lasting fidelity. Today, we have come together to witness the joining of these two lives. Out of the horror and terror of the Occupation, the extraordinary happened for them. They met each other, fell in love, and are finalizing it with their wedding today. Romance is fun, but true love is something far more and it is their desire to love each other for life and that is what we are celebrating today."

_That was in poor taste._ Babs looked at her father when the Occupation was mentioned. His proud smile watered as he blinked away tears from under his glasses. Across the aisle, Dr. Thompkins and her escort choked back something.

Reverend Manette continued. "A good marriage must be created. In marriage, the little things are the big things. It is never being too old to hold hands. It is remembering to say 'I love you' at least once a day. It is never going to sleep angry. It is standing together and facing the world. It is speaking words of appreciation, and demonstrating gratitude in thoughtful ways. It is having the capacity to forgive and forget. It is giving each other an atmosphere in which each can grow. It is a common search for the good and the beautiful. It is not only marrying the right person; it is being the right partner. As the Bible explains in First Corinthians, 'Love is very patient and kind, never jealous or envious, never boastful or proud. Love is never haughty or selfish or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable or touchy. Love does not hold grudges and will hardly notice when other do it wrong. Love is never glad about injustice, but rejoices whenever truth wins out. If you love someone, you will be loyal to them no matter what the costs. You will always believe in them, always expect the best in them, and will always stand your ground in defending them.' Now take both hands." Jen darted forward and took Selina's bouquet. "And repeat after me."

Bruce went first after the reverend. His gaze never left Selina's face. "I, Bruce, take you, Selina, to be my wife, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our friendship and love you today, tomorrow, and forever. I will trust and honor you. I will laugh with you and cry with you. I will love you faithfully through the best and the worst, through the difficult and the easy. Whatever may come, I will always be there. As I have given you my hand to hold so I give you my life to keep."

Selina wasn't wearing heels to decrease their height difference and her neck craned to look at Bruce as she repeated the vows. "I, Selina, take you, Bruce, to be my husband, my partner in life and my one true love. I will cherish our friendship and love you today, tomorrow, and forever. I will trust and honor you. I will laugh with you and cry with you. I will love you faithfully through the best and the worst, through the difficult and the easy. Whatever may come, I will always be there. As I have given you my hand to hold so I give you my life to keep."

Reverend Manette looked at the audience. "The response to the Prayers for the Faithful is "Lord, hear our prayers. Let us pray for peace, happiness and joy in everyone's life, both here at home and around the world."

"Lord, hear our prayer."

"Let us pray for the new additions to our families, that God looks over them, and that they are always surrounded by love and caring."

"Lord, hear our prayer."

"Let us pray for those in our lives who are sick and healing, may their road to recovery be blessed."

"Lord, hear our prayer."

"Let us pray for those who have traveled this road with us, but could not join us here today. We know that those people are close to us in spirit."

"Lord, hear our prayer."

"Let us pause for a moment to add our own special intentions."

"Lord, hear our prayer."

When the audience finished, Reverend Manette looked at the couple before him again. This time they managed to look at him instead of each other. "Bruce and Selina, I would ask that you always treat yourself and each other with respect and remind yourselves often of what brought you together today. Give the highest priority to the tenderness, gentleness, and kindness that your marriage deserves. When frustration and difficulty assail your marriage--as they do to every relationship at one time or another--focus on what still seems right between you, not only the part that seems wrong. This way, when clouds of trouble hide the sun in your loves and you lose sight of it for a moment, you can remember that the sun is still there. And if each of you will take responsibility for the quality of your life together, it will be marked by abundance and happiness. Bruce, do you take Selina to be your wife?"

Bruce turned back to Selina. "I do."

"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect here, forsaking all others and holding only unto her forevermore?"

"I do." His voice grew huskier.

"Selina, do you take Bruce to be your husband?"

Selina's voice rang out clearly. "I do."

"Do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others and holding only to him forevermore?"

"I do."

Babs wasn't sure with the angle she saw them at, but it looked like Bruce mouthed 'you have' at Selina. Reverend Manette paid them no attention and continued. "The fourth chapter in the First Epistle of John explains love. 'Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is born of God and knows God. But anyone who does not love does not know God--for God is love. God showed how much he loved us by sending his only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him. This is real love. It is not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins. Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other. No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and His love has been brought to full expression through us.' Now, who has the rings?"

Blake stood and passed something to both Bruce and Selina before sitting down again. Babs wondered why he and Jen didn't stand up there with the bride and groom if they were acting as best man and the maid of honor.

Bruce shifted his hands to put the wedding ring on Selina's finger when Reverend Manette spoke. "The ring is a symbol of the unbroken circle of love. Love freely given has no beginning and no end, no giver and no receiver for each is the giver and each is the receiver. May these rings always remind you of the vows you have taken."

Bruce slid on the ring. "I, Bruce, take thee, Selina, to be my wife. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you. Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

They shifted hands and the green stone on Selina's right hand flashed in the light as she slid Bruce's ring onto his hand. "I, Selina, take thee, Bruce, to be my husband. To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, in joy and sorrow, and I promise my love to you. Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."

"Lord, bless and consecrate this groom and bride in their love for each other. May these rings be a symbol of their true faith in each other, and always remind them of their love through the Christ to God." Babs jerked her head down when she realized the Reverend had segued into a prayer. "Bless their marriage, O God, as they begin their journey down the road of life together. We don't know what lies ahead for the road turns and bends. But help them to make the best of whatever comes their way. Help them to continue to enjoy each other as they did when they first met. Help them to realize that nothing nor no one is perfect and to look for the good in all things and all people including themselves. Help them to respect each other's likes and dislikes, opinions and beliefs, hopes and dreams and fears even though they may not always understand them. Help them to learn from each other and to help each other grow mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Help them to realize that no matter what happens to them they will hold onto each other and know that things have a way of working out for the good. Help them to create for their children a peaceful, stable home of love as a foundation on which they can build their lives. But most of all, dear God, help them to keep lit the torch of love that they now share so that by their loving example they may pass on the light of love to their children and to their children's children forever. Amen."

The audience echoed amen at the end. Reverend Manette beamed at Bruce and Selina again. "To make your relationship work will take love. This is the core of your marriage and why you are here today. It will take trust, to know that in your hearts you truly want what is best for each other. It will take dedication, to stay open to one another and to learn and grow together. It will take faith, to go forward together without knowing exactly what the future brings. And it will take commitment, to hold true to the journey you both have pledged to today. Judge Vargas?" He stepped aside for the woman with dark auburn hair near his own age.

Judge Vargas smiled at the audience, Bruce, and Selina. "As I'm sure you are aware, Bruce and Selina made the decision to adopt Stephanie Brown. Can you come forward Stephanie?"

The little girl passed her bouquet to Jen and slid off her chair. She stood between Bruce and Selina. "I am pleased to finalize the adoption now, and introduce Stephanie Wayne to her new mother and father." Judge Vargas opened her leather portfolio and set her paperwork on the altar next to other papers. There was a flurry of signings by everyone up there.

Selina gestured to Jen, but Bruce took the jewelry box from his sister-in-law bogged down with the bouquets. Selina lifted out a cat-shaped pendent and put it around Stephanie's neck. "You're Stephanie Wayne now."

Judge Vargas sat again, and Reverend Manette reassembled the couple at the altar only Stephanie grabbed both their hands and stared up at the minister. "My dear friends let us turn to the Lord and pray that he will bless Bruce and Selina united in true marriage today. Father, you have made the union of husband and wife holy as it symbolizes the marriage of humans through Christ to God. Before you now are Bruce and Selina with their daughter Stephanie, whose addition they acknowledge as a gift and whose presence they welcome with gratitude and humility. In a world where powerful forces seek to divide and tear the human family apart, it is significant that the powerlessness of a child is that which brings us together. Father, look with love upon Bruce, Selina, and Stephanie. Fill them with love for each other, both honoring and respecting each other and always seeing their love as a gift to be treasured. May the commitment which they are making be sacred not only for today but for the rest of their lives. We ask this blessing for them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. By the power vested in me, I now pronounced you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride."

Bruce reached for Selina and she curled her arms around his shoulders as they kissed. He released his new wife and lifted Stephanie to his hip. Selina whispered to the wide-eyed girl, coaxing a smile to her face.

"I would like to introduce the happy family, the Wayne family," Reverend Manette gestured to the trio.

"Thank you all for sharing this day with us," Bruce said, "and please join us at the reception at Wayne Manor."

The harpist strummed Mendelssohn's "Wedding March" and the family headed down the aisle. The audience waited for the front row to go out first with Reverend Manette since they had to reach the Manor on a schedule.

Mrs. Cruncher sniffed. "It was beautiful, the way they included Stephanie, just beautiful." She turned to Babs and the Commissioner. "Wasn't it beautiful?"

Gordon smiled. "Yes, it was exactly what they deserve. I hope their future has nothing but happiness."

Babs wasn't sure what goaded the words out of her mouth, maybe seeing someone getting a fairy tale happy ending. "You can't guarantee happiness, but all that money and your own personal castle is bound to help."

Mr. Cruncher shook his head. "They don't care about stuff, and they both know that too much stuff attracts evil people like Bane."

Gordon followed the Crunchers down the aisle. "Gotham City has seen enough of that kind of evil, and Bruce Wayne doesn't need to see any more." Babs didn't respond as they left the church and headed to her father's car. He was oddly invested in the happiness of an equipment supplier, no matter how crazy the Occupation had been. Gordon unlocked the car. "Making your own wedding plans?"

"Wondering about you actually." She buckled her seatbelt. "Both you and Mr. Pennyworth have split the proud papa attitude between you."

He nodded as he joined the line of cars behind the Waynes' Rolls Royce. "We... we haven't talked about what you saw... when you were ten." Babs' blue eyes widened. Neither of her parents talked about that night in the burnt warehouse with Two-Face and Batman. "That... that was bad, but we all lived through it."

"Thanks to Batman."

"Thanks to Batman," her father's voice caught as he echoed her. "Bruce Wayne was about your age then when he saw his parents gunned down. I was just a beat cop then; he was all eyes, flinching at everything, shivering from shock. Everybody else on duty had to make a ring around the offices to keep the press out."

She swallowed hard. "I didn't think." Everybody in her Gotham childhood had acted like Bruce Wayne was the city's Richie Rich, and nobody asked where Mr. and Mrs. Rich were. Everyone knew Thomas and Martha Wayne had been murdered, but to have seen it happen like Bruce did. Her stomach churned at the thought if Two-Face had shot Mom or Dad.

"It's all right, honey. Happened before you were born. But I am proud that scared boy didn't give up on humanity."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One learns something new with every writing project. I learned that I don't like writing wedding hoopla, which is not the same as writing a marriage scene. For example, Bruce and Selina have been married since he made the copper rings and she accepted one way back in [The One Rule: Chapter Twenty-Three](http://archiveofourown.org/works/897007/chapters/2216976). But the hoopla of the wedding ceremony is necessary to the plot, Alfred deserves it, and let's face it, current DC editorial hates marriage. This may be the only wedding hoopla we BatCat fans get until Chris Dee writes one in [Cat Tales](http://catwoman-cattales.com/index.html) or Slingblade125 writes hers. So I sucked it up, borrowed heavily from [Great Officiants](http://www.greatofficiants.com/design-your-ceremony) for the nuts and bolts of the ceremony, and delivered.
> 
> So let me know if it met your expectations. Oh, and just in case anyone is interested, the reactor core bomb was created September 22, 2012 so February 19, 2013 is when the five month decay period would have ended with a boom.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Selina leaned back against the car seat and fought not to grimace. The baby's kicks added to the sum of her discomfort: feet swelling against the new shoes, the ache in her back that stayed more than it went, the unfamiliar pull of the veil on her head, and feeling too tired to haul her body anywhere. She had to find some energy. They still had to get through the reception.

Stephanie sat between her and Bruce in the back seat of the Rolls and turned the cat pendent. "I have Batman on the back!"

"Careful with that." Selina rubbed the baby's new target.

Bruce bent to see the onyx button. "That's a big risk, Selina."

"I don't tell," Stephanie said.

"It's a panic button," Selina said. "If bad men take you, you press the button and we'll come for you."

Stephanie grinned. "But it has to be a secret so the bad guys won't take my necklace."

"That's right."

The little girl looked at Bruce. "You still have to teach me how to fight."

"We'll start that next week. Gives everyone a chance to recover from the wedding."

"It was pretty after all the arguing."

"We're only half done," Bruce said. Alfred shot him a reproving glare through the rearview mirror, but Bruce was focused on Selina. "Are you okay?"

"The baby's kicking, that's all."

"That's not nice," Stephanie said to the bump.

"Here we are, Wayne Manor," Alfred said as the car rolled through the open wrought iron gate. "Sizable turn out." The part of the lawn set aside for parking was nearly full.

Stephanie stared out the front windshield and leaned against her child seat restraints. "We're gonna live in a castle?"

"It's not a castle," Bruce said. "Castles have moats."

Stephanie frowned at him, but they pulled into the garage at the rear of the mansion before she could answer. Alfred swung open Selina's door while Stephanie and Bruce unbuckled the child seat's restraints. "The photographer is set up in the East Drawing Room. You do remember where it is, don't you, Missus Wayne?"

Selina seized his offered arm a little harder than necessary. "I remember blueprints with nearly perfect recall. Getting there is another issue altogether."

Blake and Jen arrived in the SUV and parked in the next garage bay while Selina emerged from the Rolls. Jen dashed over and scooped up the veil. "You are going to wreck it before pictures are taken. What happened to your grace no matter what?"

"I'm growing a kid right now. What's your excuse since you can't chew bubble gum and pass the drunk walk?"

"That only happened once and my heel broke." Jen held the veil while Selina corralled her wedding gown so they could go through the kitchen and up the back stairs.

Stephanie's grip around Bruce's neck tightened. "They all live here?" She stared at the catering staff bustling through the kitchen.

"They're just here for the party," Bruce said as he climbed up the stairs beside Selina. "We have people who come in once a week to help Alfred with the cleaning, but no one lives here who didn't live at the penthouse."

"All my toys made it here?"

The photographer met them at the open door. "Good, good. We'll start with the pose for the papers. Got a chair for the bride." Selina sank into the gilded Dundas chair that belonged to the house while Jen and the photographer put her gown hem and veil where they wanted them. "Perfect, now the groom stands here--oh you want the flower girl in it?"

Bruce sat Stephanie on the right arm of the chair. "Our daughter, yes." He stepped behind the chair while keeping his hand on Stephanie's back.

"Okay, that's good. Smile." Selina plastered on her coy smile. The photographer looked out from behind the camera. "Come on, it's your wedding day. You have to do better than that."

"Master Wayne," Alfred said under his breath.

"Selina, what did you tell him that made him grin at the altar?" Blake asked.

Her own lips tugged up at the memory. The camera flashed. "That's better, thanks man."

Blake smirked. "Now I really want to know."

The photographer shooed him and Jen towards the chair in front of a pale blue wall. "We'll have a shot of everyone, and then do family shots." Her sister stood behind the chair on Selina's left and Blake flanked Bruce. Alfred didn't move from behind the photographer.

"Alfred," Bruce said.

"You know it isn't done, Master Wayne."

"And I don't care," Selina said. "Humor the pregnant lady and get over here for the wedding album memories."

Alfred joined them, standing behind the chair. "This is most irregular."

"Right, because this household is known for its conformity," Bruce said.

"Not for lack of trying on my part, Master Wayne."

They got through that picture and then Jen switched places with Bruce for the bride's family shot. Selina smiled at the men retreating behind the camera. "I asked Bruce if he was happy to see me."

Blake grinned at them both. Bruce tilted his head as he shot her a fake wounded look. "Like you really needed to ask me that."

"You weren't breathing."

He helped her up so they could move the chair. "Because you took my breath away." They finished the photographs, she got to ditch the veil, and Alfred led everyone else back down the back stairs so they could be in the entrance hall for the Wayne family's entrance. Bruce studied her as they went through the hallway to the main stairs. "Say the word, and the party is over."

"I'm not ruining Alfred's moment, and I've gotten through worse." She took his arm as Stephanie skipped in front of them. "Stop worrying."

"That's one thing you can't change about me. Let's get this over with." He turned them around the corner and they stepped onto the balcony overlooking the ballroom. It filled the center block of the mansion. The main stairs ended in the entrance hall right outside the doors into the ballroom and the landing halfway down turned enough to look over the ballroom filled with people.

Stephanie saw them through the marble banisters, but that was enough to make her balk. "Don't want to go down there."

"No one's going to hurt you here," Bruce said as he scooped her up onto his other arm. "They just want to meet you."

"Show no fear, sweetie," Selina added.

Stephanie nodded and her shoulders moved back. They headed down the stairs and paused on the landing. The conductor on the musicians' stage turned to the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Wayne and their daughter Stephanie."

The applause rolled over them and echoed against the carved wooden ceiling above their heads. Selina plastered on her smile and saw Bruce do the same with his face. The receiving line at the bottom of the staircase blurred together with a few stand outs. Lucius Fox clasped her hand between his. "The Catwoman action figure prototype is finished, but I'll bring it to Stephanie next week."

Leslie kissed her cheek and assessed her with a gimlet eye. "Sit down as soon as you can and stay seated."

Mayor Hill, just elected, shook their hands like television cameras were present. "Delighted to be invited, congratulations to you both. Saw your interview, television does not do you justice, Mrs. Wayne."

Renee Montoya forced her arms to relax as her warm hand grabbed Selina's and she tried to slouch into her blue gown. "Thank you for inviting me and I hope you're very happy."

A series of men with their wives or without said congratulations to Selina's cleavage.

Stephanie protested when Yolanda Ross and Tara made their way to them. "I wanna play with Tara!"

"After we eat," Bruce said. "Alfred arranged for a babysitter."

Yolanda nodded. "That's thoughtful. I wondered how to keep Tara occupied at a party this long."

"A babysitter," the black-haired woman next in line said. "If we had known that we would have brought Timmy."

The brown-haired man behind her reached for Bruce's hand. "Jack Drake, this is my wife, Janet. Timothy, our son, is about your little girl's age. We just bought the old Bergen place. That makes us your closest neighbors."

"Yes, it does," Bruce agreed.

"We simply must get our children together for a play date," Janet gushed.

"That would be nice," Selina said as the Drakes headed into the ballroom.

Yolanda leaned closer to Selina. "I recognize that type. Timmy's going to be dropped on your doorstep."

The Commissioner and his daughter came through soon after the Drakes and he pressed a piece of paper into Bruce's hand. "Consider it a wedding present."

"Jim, you didn't have to get us anything." Bruce looked down at the paper. "My Aventador is in police custody?"

"What is that?" Stephanie asked.

"A Lamborghini," Bruce answered. "Where did you find it?"

"Cleaned out a chop shop and there it was untouched after the ones running it joined up with Bane's Army and got sent to Blackgate. They did go for the VINs but missed your registration of the fancy electronics. Bring your proof of ownership when you come by to pick it up."

"What's a lamb genie?" Stephanie asked.

"It's a fancy car that goes really fast," Babs answered her with a smile. "Come on, Dad, let's find our seats."

Harriet Allnut beamed at them. "It's so good to see you hosting events again, Bruce. Now we just have to get you back on duties for the Foundation."

A series of women simpered congratulations at Bruce or how precious Stephanie was and glared out their pleased-to-meet-you's at Selina before Alfred approached them. "It's time to begin the meal."

Food and the footrest hidden under their table made the event bearable again. The tension in her shoulders eased out during the meal where they were seated alone with Stephanie between them at the head table. The food was scrumptious. The wedding cake towered over them with real roses and lilies resting on the white and lavender icing. She looked down at her bone china plate still covered with portions from everything on the menu. "Bruce, what about the leftovers?"

"What the caterers don't take goes to a Wayne Foundation soup kitchen. That's been standard practice for every party I've hosted."

A young woman in a black pantsuit came up to their table. "Hi, I'm Emma. Mr. Pennyworth sent me to see if Stephanie is ready to take her friends to her room."

"We haven't had cake yet," Stephanie said.

"They're going to bring us cake," Emma said with a smile.

"Is it okay to go?" Stephanie turned to Selina and Bruce.

"Of course, go have fun," Bruce said.

Stephanie hopped down and ran to Tara's table with Emma following. Selina glanced over the crowd. "Not too many people brought their kids. Emma won't be overwhelmed."

"I guess it will take a while before people associate Bruce Wayne with a family-friendly event." She looked at him, but his bland face turned to the conductor who approached. He listened to the man's murmur before turning back to her. "Are you ready for dancing?"

Selina nodded and the conductor scurried back to the string quartet. "Jen knows to keep Alfred in here, right?"

"We went over the plan." He helped her up out of her chair.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Wayne's first dance."

Her hand tightened around his. "I didn't pick the song," she whispered. "No one asked me!"

"I picked the song." He led their waltz onto the cleared dance floor as the tune carried over the muffled conversation.

She recognized the music. This was what had been playing when Bruce cut in on her dance with Horace Gladstone. How far they had come since then. " _Pavane for a Dead Princess_ , no wonder Jen called you morbid."

He returned her smirk. "But it was the first of our many dances I hope. And I had to explain that to Jen and play the song to her before she agreed it was a fine choice."

"It's not what I would have picked. I all but scratched your eyes out when you showed up."

"That's not how I remember you. You were honest, brutally honest about the class tensions, and intriguing."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Wayne."

"But it's honesty, Mrs. Wayne." He widened his eyes with faux innocence. "I have to be honest with you because you will call out anything that isn't." Selina smiled and he pressed her closer. "I never told you that you were right," he continued. "I do need someone to drop me on my ass. And I'm so glad you took the responsibility."

"That's nothing compared to what you've given me: acceptance, understanding, family, love--"

He captured her lips in an unexpected but not unwelcome kiss. The crowd cooed at them. He ended the kiss and smiled. "One more dance and we can sit down again."

The conductor reached for the microphone again. "Now the bride and groom will dance with those responsible for the wedding." They twirled one last time before splitting apart. Jen stepped forward with hands outstretched and Bruce glided away with her as the music changed.

Selina held out her arms to Alfred, who stepped out of the crowd and into the dance. "Whatever will I do with the pair of you and your willful flaunting of conventions?"

"Shake your head at us and then just say we pay well to anyone snobby and nosy enough to comment."

"That's one strategy, yes." His blue eyes considered her. "But I dare say you'll put those comments away without any help from me."

She smirked, "Oh then you have to help make some. This party isn't over until you dance with Leslie."

"Mrs. Wayne," he said severely. "Can we have a limit on what improprieties happen during your wedding?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"She's a friend of the family and I--"

"Forget how to be a proper English butler every time she comes to visit. And she only comes to see you, so give her a dance." She turned to the crowd as the song ended and grinned at Leslie. "He's all yours."

Leslie grinned as she took Alfred's hand with a slight curtsey. "You actually did it. Thomas and Martha's boy has a family of his own."

Selina made her way to the restrooms connected to the ballroom. A bonus to being this obviously pregnant, no one impeded her progress. She was amused that they were designed more like public facilities including multiple stalls. She was washing her hands when another woman barreled inside and stopped short. "Ms. Kyle, I'm mean Mrs. Wayne, oh this is the worst possible time to talk to you, but I'm stuck on what to do." Her porcelain-colored hands squeezed into fists at her sides.

"What's wrong, Ms. Allnut?" Selina hadn't had a chance to talk to the blonde woman at Bruce's birthday party. She knew she was a little older than Bruce and took over the Wayne Foundation operations a few years before Bruce locked himself away. She sat on the loveseat beside the outer door.

Harriet Allnut perched on the other end. "I'm used to making the hard decisions since there is never enough money to go around, along with Mr. Wayne's particulars over no outside funding. But I don't know what to do when he adds obligations and I can't get a meeting with him and then you both go on television and give the Foundation publicity I can't do anything with." She stopped her hands from seizing her brunette-streaked blonde hair.

Selina frowned. The Wayne Foundation had come up in their _Gotham Tonight_ interview because Mike Engle kept insisting that Selina and Bruce were recreating something from Thomas and Martha's courtship. Selina stressed Bruce's altruism through his creation of the Foundation. That must have sent more attention to Harriet Allnut. "Won't the new toy line bring in more money?"

"After it goes to retail," Harriet confirmed. "But people want to donate money nationwide. Right now I'm coordinating with the Red Cross and United Way, but the Foundation is losing money Gotham needs right now. And the only time I hear from Mr. Wayne is when he wants to spend money on something. Worthwhile things, they always are, but you two won't be hosting any fundraisers until after the baby is born. Trust me, I understand that and I understand Mr. Wayne doesn't want anything to cheapen the memory of his parents. And you so don't want to deal with this on your wedding day." She took a deep breath. "Can I steal him after your honeymoon? I promise to give him right back as soon as we iron out new parameters."

Selina smiled. "I doubt that'll be much help. We're skipping a honeymoon trip because Bruce is so busy."

"And I always thought I'd be glad to see him leave this mansion." Harriet shook her head as her shoulders slumped.

"How's this for a plan? You stop stressing and enjoy the party out there. Then when you go back to work, map out everything you would do without Bruce's parameters or rules or whatever they are. As long as it doesn't cheapen Thomas and Martha Wayne's memory, it's fair game. We'll schedule a day next week and you can explain to me all the gritty details. And if we don't find a way around Bruce's parameters, I'll invite you to supper and you can ambush him then."

Harriet chuckled. "I think I will like working with you, Mrs. Wayne." She brushed off her purple gown as she stood and offered Selina a hand. She had a stronger grip than Selina expected. "Now we both should get out there before the search parties start."

No one was looking for either one of them though Yolanda Ross noticed Selina moving toward the head table again. "Sit down, will you. My feet swell just by looking at you."

Selina slid into the empty chair between Yolanda and Renee Montoya. "Seated. What are we talking about?"

"We've been having a mini-celebration over Detective Montoya's promotion." Yolanda lifted her champagne flute.

"Congratulations," Selina said to the blushing Hispanic woman. "It's long due."

"You're both making too much of it. The War left the police department with a lot of holes to fill. I climbed up thanks to that."

"I heard you had a commendation that swayed the Commissioner," Selina said.

"Oh, from who?" Yolanda asked.

"There you are," Blake said as he walked up to the table. "Alfred needs you at the cake in a few, Selina." He turned to Montoya. "You haven't danced with me, Detective Montoya.

"You're not my type, Blake."

"I know I'm not your type, but if you dance across the room with me, I can introduce you to someone who maybe is your type." He grinned until his dimples appeared.

"Dios mío, you're going to stay there and be all cute and obnoxious until I do what you want."

"I'll move onto pleading if you're ready."

"Fine," she threw her napkin onto the table as she stood. "You step on my toes and I'll break yours."

"I've been taking lessons for this event." Blake guided her onto the dance floor.

Yolanda leaned closer. "I want the gossip. Catwoman left a good word about Renee, right?"

"How did you guess?"

"Kelly and Jensen both talk about Batman and Catwoman, but Renee always clams up. Something's up there. Plus Batman's not here to do it."

"So how come you don't have a detective shield?" Selina asked.

"Too busy earning my mommy badge." Yolanda drained her glass. "Now go cut the cake, I'm ready for sugar."

* * *

Bruce looked around the ballroom's thinning crowd for his wife. His wife--he had never thought of Rachel that way, even when he was convinced she would be the one at the church. His wife and publicly recognized as that today even though Bane married them months ago. He glanced at the one glass of champagne he allowed himself and decided to cut himself off before he got more morbid. His gaze landed on his official wedding band; the bright copper wire beaded out of the gleaming white gold. Selina knew what really had meaning in their lives. He looked for her again. She sat with the Fredericks a few tables toward the north wall. He set down the empty glass and made his way to his wife.

Selina's polite smile was still in place, but the droop of her shoulders betrayed how tired she was. He was impressed at how long she had lasted. Time to get her out of here and make sure no one ever imposed what they wanted on her ever again. Alfred got what he wanted and would be on their side now. Mrs. Fredericks was detailing who was related to whom and waved the red roses bouquet for emphasis.

He leaned down, whispered into her ear, "Ready to leave?" and hid the question with a kiss on her cheek. She nodded as he pulled back, so he turned to the Fredericks. "We're sneaking out. Don't give us away."

"I'm surprised you haven't already done one of your infamous fades," Douglas Fredericks chuckled. "We should be heading home too."

"It is a school night," Bruce said as he helped Selina out of her chair. "Thank you for coming."

"Everything was beautiful," Patricia Fredericks gushed. "I just wished Martha and Thomas were here."

Selina squeezed his arm, but he hadn't retreated. "We all wish they were. Good-night." He turned Selina toward the ballroom's closest rear door.

"Do we have to shoo the rest of them out?" Selina's voice dropped its pleasant façade as the started up the back east wing stairs.

"Alfred can shoo them out or we'll find them in the morning. I should have gotten you out already."

"Yes, hours ago." She leaned against him. "You're lucky I'm still in a libidinous mood."

He paused as they reached the third floor. "You don't think I could change your mood?" His fingers stroked down the bare skin between her shoulders.

"Don't make me jump you in the hall."

He opened the master suite's hall door. "Our room, Mrs. Wayne." She swept past him trailing her fingers across his waistcoat. He shut the door and looked at the bedroom through her eyes. The blue walls were nearly grey in the glow from the lamps and the white molding around the windows glowed brighter. The hardwood floor matched the blond tones in the curved head and footboards of the replica bed that had been in the master bedroom since his grandfather's time. The dark brown rug underneath matched the browns in the duvet folded down to show the crisp white satin sheets. The brown hexagon clock hanging above the left nightstand ticked as he realized how masculine the space was. He waited for Selina's quip on his decorating style.

But she bypassed the round breakfast table--the only item he had fought Alfred over, he hadn't wanted a desk in here like his father had--and opened the dressing room between the bedroom and the bath. A satin padded hanger waited on the formerly empty side. He blinked at the closet rods filled with Selina's clothing.

"Help me, will you?" She moved in front of him and presented the gown's back chain that kept the bodice down over her shoulders. "What's wrong? You've seen my clothes before."

"Sorry." He kissed her neck as he untied the chain. "See them here made it real all the sudden."

"My clothes were in your closet at the penthouse." She smirked at him over her shoulder.

"The penthouse is different. You're the first and only here." He found her hidden side zipper and pulled it down slowly.

She twisted and settled her arms around his neck. "I've never held your past against you." He didn't bother to say he was too busy holding it against himself, but kissed her deep red lips. Her fingers moved around his neck and untied his lavender four-hand tie. He leaned back with a nibble on her bottom lip. "Why do you always wear so many layers?" she asked when he let it go.

He peeled off his black morning coat. "Not my fault you wear too few."

Her hands skimmed his waistcoat but didn't touch the buttons. She stepped back to her side of the dressing room and slid the white gown off her shoulders. The low-back strapless bra wrapped around her back above her slip. She glanced over her shoulder at him before placing the gown on the waiting hanger.

He stripped off the waistcoat; left it on his dresser, knelt before her, and lifted her foot. "Since you aren't my Cinderella, let me take these off." The silver coin caught his eye. "Why is there money in your show? British money?"

"That's from Alfred." She took the diamond stud out of her earlobe and put it in the jewelry box on her dresser. "He muttered something about Yanks always getting the rhyme wrong and told me to put it in my shoe."

"All I got before the ceremony was a brushing and told there'd be hell to pay if I wrinkled the suit." He freed her other foot.

"Whatever worked; you looked immaculate up there, not breathing." She closed the jewelry box with a snap.

He dropped the suspenders off his shoulders as he followed her back into the bedroom. His hands caressed her silky skin as he found the latch on the bra and unfastened it. She twisted and pulled him closer by the waistband of his trousers. "Selina," he moaned.

"Show me how much, Bruce, show me."

His mouth covered hers again. She tasted better than the champagne and was far more potent than any wine. Her nimble fingers loosened his buttons so her arms snaked into his shirt. Skin to skin encouraged their hands to roam lower. She unfastened his trousers while he palmed her heavy breasts.

Her slip and panties slid off as she crawled onto the mattress. He peeled off his pants and boxers before kneeling behind and sliding into her. His hands didn't stay locked on her hips as she rocked back but stroked her swollen belly, her rounded buttocks, and her inner folds. They didn't rock the bed--it was too well built for that--but Selina almost clawed through the sheets.

He sprawled onto the mattress after the last of his adrenaline fled his body with his orgasm. His wife sidled up to him and draped her arm over his chest once she finished tracing over his scars. "I had so many wicked things in mind to do to you, my husband." Her hesitancy on the term was lost to her yawn. "We should've left the party right after we cut the cake."

Bruce wrapped his arms around her. "No need to hurry. We have the rest of our lives now."

* * *

Harriet Allnut tipped the driver from the car service as she got out at her building. Joshua the doorman held the door open for her. "You look like you had a good time, Ms. Allnut."

"It was a good party." She leaned against the wall while waiting for the elevator. "I even danced with the Commissioner, the new Mayor, and a nice man young enough to be my son."

"You needed a good party. You've been working long hours lately." Joshua hovered in case she needed help into the elevator, but she wasn't drunk, just tipsy enough to feel good.

"Let me tell you something, this was the first time I've seen my boss happy in all the years I've known him." The elevator dinged and she waved to Joshua. "Time for me to make sure I'm not hung-over in the morning. Goodnight."

She pulled her key out of her clutch while she was still in the elevator. Realizing Bruce Wayne was actually happy made her think about the woman who evidently made him that way. The rumors swirling around the Wayne Enterprises building ranged from gold-digging slut to plucked angel who straightened out Bruce Wayne. Harriet wasn't ready to declare what Selina Kyle Wayne was based on two introductions, a television interview, and one conversation, but she was ready to rule out empty-headed bimbo and mercenary social climber.

Mrs. Wayne could have brushed her off with reception duties, but didn't. And she came up with a workable plan just from what she heard. Bruce married brains as good as his. The meeting next week would be interesting. Harriet looked forward to it. She snickered as she unlocked her condo's main door while thinking about the pair of them ambushing Bruce during supper at stately Wayne Manor.

She relocked the door and dropped her clutch on the hall tree next to the door. The light she left on in the kitchen spilled out into the combined living and dining room so she didn't bother turning on more lights. She turned the corner of the small foyer to get one large glass of water before going to bed because she still had to go to the office tomorrow even if it was late.

A firecracker went off in the darkest corner of the living room between her kitchen pantry and the window. The blow to her abdomen knocked her off her feet. Fire felt like it was spreading out from the blow and she couldn't catch her breath. The pain rippled up through her body.

She heard the chair scrape against the wall and turned her head to that dark corner. He stood in the light from her kitchen, but all she saw his suit and the bowler shading his face were both green. "I want you to know I have spent weeks on the various scenarios, and for me that's like you taking six months to plan and sending the plan out for market testing. This plan was the only one with a successful outcome. Unfortunately, you have to die so I can learn the answer to the greatest riddle this city has given us. It's nothing personal, so there's no reason for you to suffer."

Harriet's eyes left his shadowy face and focused on the strange-shaped gun that moved into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about last week, readers. I caught up to the buffer and didn't finish the chapter in time to post. I have to get ahead of the buffer so the same thing doesn't happen next week. Now I'm sorry for this week's delay, but look at all the words you got. And I need to go recalculate how many words the second half will take.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

Nightwing hummed a tune as he turned the Tumbler onto Fifth Avenue. The wedding was done and God would be happy with the wedding and tonight's patrol would be quiet or alternatively, he would finally apprehend Scarecrow. The Cartier's building rolled into view and Nightwing decided God's higher priority was proving him wrong.

Gotham City's branch of Cartier's always tied a giant red ribbon around the store for Christmas and a few years ago, they had upgraded to a lighted version. It never came out last year, but nobody in Midtown had decorated during the Occupation. Tonight the panels were on the building, dazzling the neighborhood, and green. He parked the Tumbler next to the sidewalk and climbed out. The green ribbon stretched up the corner of the building and met the second green ribbon between the third and fourth floors with a bow. Instead of a lighted panther stalking up beside the ribbon, a giant gift tag propped against the building like it was dangling from the bow. A LED sign was embedded into the tag and scrolled through its message in green text.

> Behold the mighty panther!  
> These jewelers co-opted the fearless beast  
> for an icon of all desires thanks to artiste.  
> Elegance and independence trapped in gems and gold.  
> Bah, who can be bothered with things so cold?  
> Not for me such classy bling,  
> I'd rather have the real thing.

Nightwing blinked and read the poem a second time. The first part sounded like the writer had left Cartier's inventory alone. The next part, his forehead scrunched against his mask. Real panthers were out in the jungle or the jungle exhibit at Trillium Park Zoo.

A police car stopped in the middle of the street. "What the hell?" The officer in the passenger seat leaned out his open window.

"I think it's just vandalism, but check the building and get a hold of the Cartier's manager. I'll check the threat to the zoo." Nightwing jumped back into the Tumbler and turned toward the Narrows Bridge.

Trillium Park Zoo was one of the oldest zoos in the United States. One of his foster families had taken him to it almost every weekend when they had him and he remembered it well. FEMA had sent a truck of animal supplies and Bane's Army had let it through so most of the animals there survived the Occupation. And it was the closest location of a live panther, a black jaguar along with the spotted ones in the indoor rainforest exhibit.

He concentrated on the still-under-construction streets and hoped this nut hadn't let the jaguars out of their habitat. Fox and Bruce vouched that the armor held up against dog bites, but another zoo trip fact resurfaced. Jaguars bit their prey in the skull to drive their fangs into the brains.

The snow-covered lawns and bare trees didn't expose a person lurking in the park as far as the Tumbler's and the zoo's lights reached, and more importantly, also didn't show a freezing giant cat. He used the grapnel gun to get on top of the fence and dropped down inside. No footprints in the fresh snow over the grass, but people had walked over the sidewalk. He followed it up to the glass-roofed pergolas between the buildings surrounding the sea lion pool.

The door to the indoor rainforest was unlocked. The inner door opened when then outer shut and the warm humid air plastered to the armor. He ignored how his face tingled and headed through the pathway to the glass-walled room. A large green card was taped to the glass facing the walkway. "So you might be smart enough to play along" and a smiley face decorated the front in gold foil. Behind the glass, a spotted jaguar joined the black panther on a tree limb and stared at Nightwing.

He glanced at the fact card. "Okay, has one of you been kidnapped?" He moved around the exhibit. Yellow fur gleamed in the shadows of the cave in the back. "Three cats, check. Wish you guys could tell me who left this." He pointed at the card still on the glass and then looked up for security cameras. All the ones he spotted were turned to the wall. "This guy doesn't miss a trick." He took pictures to show how he found everything and both jaguars leaped into the darkness of their habitat when the flash went off. Only then did he open the card.

> Changed my mind, he's not petite  
> Out of house I'd be with how he'd eat.  
> Now I'm hungry, but I won't have what she's having.  
> Pastrami on rye with mustard, oh what a craving.

The stereotype of police officers had them gluttons for donuts. He had been on the force long enough to realized cops liked to eat everything. And they had all agreed the best place for pastrami was Katz's Deli that was a few blocks away in East Park Side. He slid the card into an evidence bag. Then he dusted the moved security cameras for prints. None showed up. No point in dusting the glass since the perp probably wore gloves. He ran to the Tumbler and stowed the evidence.

Figures the first time he'd see this famous landmark empty, he would be chasing a perp through it. The neon lights that named the red brick building Katz's Delicatessen and advertised the different food items in the front window were shut off and no salami hung on display. He had to pick the locks on the gate covering the glass doors as well as the glass doors. He shone his flashlight over the tables and the green greeting card stood up on the table with a metal plaque. "Where Harry met Sally… hope you have what she had!" He shook his head, took pictures, and opened the card.

> "The chase is on" was the outburst,  
> Forgot mustard gives me quite the thirst.  
> So where do brainy kitties go for more games with their beer?  
> Everybody knows I like chess at Cheers.

If the perp surrendered peacefully at the end of this trail, Nightwing would still punch him in the head, just for this scavenger hunt. He sealed this card in another evidence bag, and looked at the table.

This perp didn't leave any prints at the zoo, so it was probable that he continued wearing gloves here. And the perp was calling this a chase. Nightwing believed he should scour for evidence but did he have the time against a ticking clock? He relocked the doors as he left.

Unfortunately for the clue left, Blake had never been a drinker. He remembered what alcohol had done to his cousin--the only family had left after his father died--so it seemed better to limit his intake. Ross had taken him to a neighborhood bar in Randall the last time he had a beer.

He stowed the latest card with the rest of his evidence before addressing the link to the Batcomputer. "Search the alcohol license database for a business with cat in its name."

"Searching," flashed on the screen.

Green and gold reminded him of something and it was connected to bad poetry too. He glanced back at where he had put the two cards. The green envelope left on the Tumbler the night of the Evermonds raid! They had gotten so busy with adopting Stephanie, looking for Scarecrow, Bruce and Selina's birthdays, and the wedding; he had forgotten to talk to Bruce about it. And he had thought somebody on the police force figured out Catwoman's identity and wanted to pull her tail.

This perp wasn't Gotham P.D. Nobody on the force would do something as publicly as lighting up Cartier's right after Gordon sent the National Guard packing.

The computer beeped at him. Only one bar had a name with cat in it: Fat Cat on Truman Street on the other side of the island in China Basin.

He arrived as the bartenders were dismissing the last customers. The older man threw up his hands. "What now? Bad enough I gotta close earlier because of some stupid public safety curfew shit, but now you're here to make sure I do it?"

Nightwing stopped at the top of the steps into the basement club. "I'm following a trail of vandalism. The clue led me here."

"We ain't had no vandalism here." The bartender stepped up a riser as he crossed his arms.

"I just need to do a quick search. He's been leaving clues behind on green cards."

"Green cards?" A second bartender bounced behind the one blocking the stairs to get a clear look at Nightwing. The larger bartender twisted to look at her without shifting his blockade. "There was a green envelope with the chess table screw-up tonight," she continued.

"Chess table screw up?" Nightwing asked. Chess had been mentioned in the last line. The larger bartender threw up his hands and stepped aside as the woman moved closer.

"Our games are reserved first come first serve." The ring through her upper lip flashed in the light from the bar signs. "When I came on, somebody had already reserved the chess table but wasn't using it, wasn't even sitting there. A couple of our regulars were heated about it, so I checked. The pieces were set up on the board, but the game hadn't started and a green envelope was propped up against them. I took the envelope and let the guys have the game."

"Did you keep it?" Nightwing moved down a step.

"Yeah, I was hoping he'd come back and I could explain how you stay with what you reserved." She thrust back through the door with a rolling gait that swayed her hips. Nightwing hurried after her and the larger bartender let him pass.

She reached under the bar at the cash register and pulled out a card-sized envelope. "Here it is. Didn't open it."

The envelope wasn't sealed, but Nightwing put it in a separate evidence bag. "I'll have to take your fingerprints."

"You can finger whatever you like." She leaned over the bar and put her cleavage on display.

Nightwing felt his ears burns and read the clue printed on green cardstock out loud. 

> "It is time to find congenial company.  
> Wise men, notable women, words and cats accompany  
> Ideas contained in the most portable format.  
> So ponder does every writer own a literary cat?"

He shook his head. "What is this guy trying to prove?"

"That he's smarter than you?" she said. The other bartender barked a laugh as he picked up the chairs.

Nightwing took out his palm scanner from the utility belt. "Put your hand on this." He set it down on the bar.

She complied. "Literary cats, oh I bet he's talking about Matilda."

"Matilda?" Nightwing saved the palm print and brought up the keyboard. "Type in your name and a contact number."

"Matilda is the Algonquin's cat; we just covered that in American Lit class. The Round Table was all these famous writers of the Twenties and Thirties that had lunch there daily." She finished typing. "Good luck."

"Thanks, both of you." He took the evidence to the Tumbler and drove to the famous Midtown hotel. This made the fourth landmark he had to visit. "Search the Tourism Board for any publicity stunts involving Cartier's, Trillium Park Zoo, Katz's Delicatessen, and the Algonquin Hotel."

He arrived in Red Hook before the Batcomputer finished searching. The concierge looked startled as Nightwing strode into the wood-paneled Edwardian atmosphere. "Has anyone messed with your cat today?"

"Matilda? She's right there." He pointed to the dark chair next to the door. The white-furred housecat didn't move from her curled-up position. "Is there something else I can help you with, sir?"

"Has anybody left a green card or green envelope here?"

"No, we'd talk about that. And nobody messes with Matilda."

"I'm following this series of clues. The last one was: 

> It is time to find congenial company.  
> Wise men, notable women, words and cats accompany  
> Ideas contained in the most portable format.  
> So ponder does every writer own a literary cat?

So do you know another literary cat?"

"The old Gotham Book Mart used to have cats. Management had an idea of setting up a playdate with Matilda once, but the owner of the bookstore wasn't keen on the idea. It was in the Diamond District before it went bankrupt."

"I remember that. Thanks." Nightwing hurried back to the Tumbler and continued north to the Midtown Diamond District on West Twentieth Street between Chambers Avenue and Thain Street. The merchants were still recovering their stolen merchandise. Was the wild good chase orchestrated to give the perp time to rob one of the exchanges? He slowed down where the sign still hung for the Gotham Book Mart where it had been the only business on the block not devoted to gemstones over the decades it was in business. A green poster board was taped to the building underneath the swinging sign.

> Cats fear water and have their own marks  
> Head here to make up for your lack of birthmarks.

The computer search got negative results on the Tourism Board. At least he wasn't interrupting someone's attempt at viral marketing the city. But that first message left on the Tumbler didn't point to any locations, it only focused on Catwoman. "New search any tattoo parlors with cat in their names."

Three locations popped up on the computer screen. _Not afraid of water_ ; Stray Cat Tattoos was on South Channel Island.

Luckily, the tattoo parlor was closed for the night, so he didn't have to explain this mission again. The wall to the left was decorated with framed pictures of finished tattoos except in the center where the framed images had been removed and a giant green question mark had been sprayed-painted on the painted brick. The framed images were stacked neatly on the counter next to the cash register.

"He finally vandalized something besides Cartier's." Nightwing's lips curled back in disgust as he realized the dot under the question mark was square. He took pictures before unfolding the green paper for the clue.

> Home despite not being Pride Rock  
> But with that name you expect a flock.

"Pride Rock? But the _Lion King_ left the Theater District." He returned to the Tumbler after relocking the door. "List everything in Gotham named Lions."

The computer screen started listing business on Lyons Avenue. Fourth on the list was Lyons Condominiums. Condo was close to condor, which was a bird that could flock if it wanted to. "Best lead I have right now."

The condo building was on the corner of Lyons Avenue and Gate Boulevard in the classier side of West Side Midtown. Most of the building was dark, which made sense this time of night, except one window on the fifteenth floor shone green.

The grapnel gun brought him up level with the window. A portable spotlight with a green bulb had been aimed out the window and he couldn't see anything in the dark space past it. The window swung inside easily and he landed on a carpeted floor. Enough of the green light reflected back into the room for him to see a body lying on the floor just past the kitchen alcove. He flicked on his flashlight before moving forward.

The chest in the purple evening gown didn't move and the amount of blood soaked into the beige carpet meant CPR was no use. He swept the flashlight to make sure his path around the bistro style dining table didn't disturb any forensic evidence before he got closer.

His hand squeezed the flashlight. The woman on the floor was Harriet Allnut. They had danced together at the reception hours ago. She had teased him for looking far too young to know anything about security. And now she was dead.

He retreated back to the window and pulled out his Nightwing cellphone, but didn't want to deal with dispatch over this. He punched the speed dial for Gordon.

The Commission answered without a hello. "Cartier's is spitting mad about their outside décor and I've got zookeepers freaking out over their lack of security footage. Tell me what the hell is going on."

"He dropped clues all over the city for me to follow to a murder at the finish line."

"Who's dead and where?"

"Victim is Harriet Allnut. I found the body in one of the fifteenth floor condos in Lyons Condos." Nightwing breathed past the burning in his lungs. "And her murderer has a thing for riddles."


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 61

Alfred sipped his mug of coffee. Truth be told, he would have preferred a late start to the day after the wedding himself, but Bruce had an early morning and that meant coffee for Alfred's early day. The toaster raised the slices of bread and he added them to the plates. The phone rang. "Wayne Manor."

"Hi Alfred, it's John. I'm too tired to drive back so I'm crashing at the bunker today. Didn't want you to worry."

"Is everything all right, Master Blake?" Something else lurked in the young man's voice besides exhaustion.

"Gordon will call you within the hour, but it's a murder case. I ended up here with forensic evidence I don't trust around all that water in the Batcave."

"Go on to bed. We'll handle the daylight inquiries."

"Okay, Alfred. Bye."

The phone rang again as he poured the juices and milk. "Wayne Manor, Pennyworth speaking."

"This is Commissioner Gordon. Ms. Harriet Allnut was a guest at the wedding reception last night?"

"Yes, sir, I saw her out about ten o'clock last night."

"That tracks with what the driver said. Did she seem out of sorts or upset with anyone?"

"Not at all. Slightly intoxicated perhaps, but she seemed happy. Has something happened to her?"

Gordon sighed. "She was found murdered last night. Can you think of anything that would be a reason for her death? Anything strange going on with the Wayne Foundation?"

Alfred focused on the question to move past the pain of yet another young life cut down before his own. "I pushed for her hire because I have neither the time nor the training to run a nonprofit charitable foundation. My role as a director of the Wayne Foundation became more advisory since Ms. Allnut's hire."

"When is the last time you had to advise her?"

"Last year's Dent Day Celebration at the Manor. Since the end of the Occupation, Master Wayne has been in direct contact with her."

"I better talk to him then."

The Commissioner was fine with waiting, so Alfred moved the last breakfast tray into the dumbwaiter, sent it to the third floor, climbed up the stairs, took the cordless phone from its nook between the bedrooms, and set it on the tray for the master suite.

They were still asleep and Alfred frowned as he set the tray on the breakfast table. This city should have given him better news to bear. He carried the phone to the bed and touched Bruce's scarred arm. It released Selina as he turned and blinked. "Commissioner Gordon on the phone for you, sir."

Bruce sat up as fast as he could without jostling his wife. "Nightwing?"

"No, Harriet Allnut was found murdered last night." Alfred set the phone receiver in Bruce's outstretched hand before he turned to the trail of clothing the pair had left on the floor.

"What's going on, Jim?" Bruce leaned against the headboard. "No, it's fine considering the circumstances." Alfred carried their robes out of the dressing room and laid them on the foot of the bed. "I know she was at the reception, but if you need details, Alfred is the one to speak to. Oh you've already questioned him. Thank you for the notice and you'll have the full cooperation of the Wayne Foundation and Wayne Enterprises during the investigation." Bruce said good-bye and hung up the phone with a brooding expression.

"Why so early?" Selina asked with a yawn. 

"Harriet Allnut was murdered last night," he answered.

"She's still coming to dinner and you need to be nice to the stressed-out lady giving your money away." She pulled the covers over her head.

"Stressed out?" Alfred asked. Ms. Allnut hadn't appeared stressed when he spoke with her, but that was at the end of the evening and more than one glass of champagne.

"Wake up, Selina. She won't be coming to dinner; someone killed her." He took the glass of green juice from Alfred and drained it before asking. "What did Blake say about it?"

"He took forensic evidence to the bunker and was too exhausted to safely drive back to the Manor. His report will be better read after your meeting with City Hall today."

"So I won't have details that only the police know dealing with them this morning."

"Someone really killed that poor woman?" Selina clutched the satin sheet to her bosom as she awkwardly sat up with added weight of her belly.

"I'm afraid so, Mrs. Wayne." Alfred handed her the small glass of orange juice from the tray. "You invited her to dinner?"

"We bumped into each other in the bathroom and she let her stress gush out. Nothing specific but she was having issues with your rules and not getting a meeting with you."

Bruce frowned. "Don't exaggerate when she's dead."

She pushed her messy hair back from her face. "I'm not exaggerating. She was asking for permission to steal you from the honeymoon without making it personal. So I told her to go enjoy the party, work up whatever she wanted to do that she's freaked out you won't like, and I'd meet with her next week to find out about your issues. Then I told her if we still needed to deal with you, I'd invite her to dinner for an ambush. The last time I saw her she was dancing with Blake, so I decided to invite her to dinner regardless of ambushing you."

"Something at the Foundation upset Harriet. It may have caused her murder or it may not, but I don't have time to look into it. Not right now." Bruce swung his legs out and pulled on his pajama pants before dropping to the floor for his push-ups.

Alfred handed Selina her robe when she reached for it. "Okay, I'll do it," she said.

That simple declaration brought Bruce onto his feet with the fewest repetitions of push-ups that Alfred had ever witnessed him perform. Consternation and trepidation flitted across his face. "You don't have to, not in your condition."

"I'm just gestating, which I can do just as well sitting in your office building as I can sitting in your mansion."

"Our," Bruce said.

"My point is you need someone to keep everything moving until you hire a replacement. Waller hasn't sent me a consulting job lately so I can fill in for you at the Foundation and dig around if the murder was rooted there." Alfred turned to the breakfast tray so Selina could stand and put on her robe. "I'm decent now, Alfred."

He turned around to see Bruce cross his arms. "You don't know anything about charitable finances."

"Even better for an investigation. Who are you? What do you do here? How does that help Gotham? Not to mention we don't have anyone else who can. You've got to go to City Hall today." Her hands landed on her hips as they stared across the rumpled bed at each other.

"Alfred is a Foundation director," Bruce said.

Selina rolled her eyes. "Alfred has cleaners to supervise today."

Consternation was winning the battle for Bruce's expression. "This isn't what we planned."

"If we start counting what hasn't gone to plan, we'll be here for the rest of the week. So when you've decided you've spent enough time on the metaphorical floor, you'll find me in the shower." She sauntered to the dressing room and the bathroom beyond it.

Bruce's brooding solidified. "Surely, you don't believe she will come to harm at Wayne Enterprises?" Alfred asked.

"No, she's safe there. I just...." His mouth quirked. "I wanted to make things easier for her, not pile on worries."

"Know your limits, Master Wayne. And tell your wife what your intentions are so I don't find you on the sofa again." Bruce shook his head as he headed to the bathroom. Alfred left them to their making-up and delivered the other two breakfast trays. He had to open the drapes to get a reaction from Miss Jen. Miss Stephanie was already awake, standing on the windowsill with her nose pressed against the glass. "Breakfast, Miss Stephanie." He set the tray on the low table.

She slid off the windowsill. "Do we live in a yard? Jerry called it a yard, but it's more like a park to me."

"Yards are private property attached to houses, so Master Jerry is correct." He poured the cereal into the bowl. "But the property attached to Wayne Manor is larger than any of the parks you've been to."

"Where's the playground?"

"We've never had one. We should, especially if you will have friends over."

"My friends could live here too." She shoved the loaded spoon into her mouth.

"I doubt we need to move anyone else in. Let's pick your outfit to wear today, shall we?" He headed to her closet.

* * *

Alfred and Stephanie dropped them off at the elevated train station in the Palisades, and Stephanie surprised Selina by not wanted to go with them. "Alfred said we need to find a spot for the playground. I have to help."

"We're putting in a playground?" Bruce looked at Alfred.

"It occurred to me that you and Miss Rachel might have caused less trouble if you had had a swing set."

They were the only commuters heading into the city. Jen sat facing them and focused on her phone with sips from her travel mug. Bruce sat on the aisle side next to Selina and talked on his phone. Selina watched the river and the city roll underneath them.

"Thank you." Bruce hung up. "A car will be waiting at the Red Hook station for us."

"It's only a couple of blocks. You do know walking is good for pregnancy, right?" Selina smirked.

Bruce's serious face didn't crack. "Not over sidewalk ice."

Selina let it go. He was determined to chafe over the necessity of her going to the Foundation to investigate in place of him. She thought they had settled this in the shower, but apparently not. "What shall we tell the media?"

"We have to tell them something, don't we? Shocked, saddened, she always wanted the best for Gotham."

"Okay, I'll make that pretty."

"Put that out from the Foundation. I'll talk to Harriet's next of kin this afternoon after the police contact them."

Jen laughed. "Somebody changed Cartier's Christmas decorations and put them up. Boy, are they pissed about a green bow." She held her phone out so Selina and Bruce saw the picture of the gift-wrapped building.

"I like the red better." Selina wrinkled her nose.

"Was anything stolen?" Bruce asked.

Jen looked at the phone again. "This story says no. Maybe someone was celebrating you two's wedding."

"They should have left the ribbon red then," Selina said.

They separated at the South Channel Island station, and more people joined Selina and Bruce on the Red Hook line. He read over his presentation notes in between assessing glances at the other passengers. The morning desk jockeys didn't alarm Selina. Most of them were in their own worlds. The car and driver waited on the street under the train station. Bruce had all his papers put away once they were seated behind the glass. "Blake must have had a busy night," she said.

"His report is unfinished, well, more like barely started," Bruce said in a low tone. "A list of addresses and the negative results of iodine fuming. The first address is Cartier's."

Selina nodded as they got out at Wayne Enterprises. Whatever evidence Blake was trying to fume for prints probably needed to go to the police not permanently marked by the other methods. The automatic glass doors opened for them. The black marble and the brassy metal accents reflected the lights and ghost versions of themselves crossed the lobby in the mirror-like sheen. The raven-haired woman in a cheap pantsuit waited at the security desk in front of the elevator bank. "Hello Detective Montoya," Selina said.

Bruce's eyes widened slightly as the other woman turned to face them. "Congratulations on your promotion. You're the detective assigned to Harriet Allnut's case?"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne, but the Commissioner will be watching right over my shoulder."

"We don't want to be the cause of any misunderstandings with the Commissioner." Bruce looked at the pair of security guards behind the desk. "Detective Montoya gets a VIP visitor's pass. And my wife has the same level access as myself and Mr. Fox."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Wayne. Everything is in order for Mrs. Wayne." The security guard flashed a nervous smile at all of them before pushing a digital signature pad at Montoya. "Sign here, please."

Montoya pinned the green plastic card to the lapel of her jacket and joined them in the elevator. "I don't expect special treatment, Mr. Wayne."

"That level gives you access to everything in the building except R&D. Security usually thinks Mr. Fox and I should remain undisturbed by anyone not employed here." The elevator stopped on the Foundation floor. Selina put her hand against his chest as he stepped forward and pressed the button up to his office floor. "I should go smooth--"

"I've got this. Everyone in the city knows who I am now. Knock their socks off at City Hall." She pecked a kiss on his lips before shoving him back into the elevator. "He's in over-protective ass mode," she explained to Montoya's raised eyebrow as the elevator left.

"You are stepping into Ms. Allnut's place at the Foundation, not your husband?"

"Revitalize Gotham Construction Company has to make a presentation at City Hall today. Bruce is the one who has to give it."

The receptionist looked at them as they opened the glass doors separating the waiting room lobby from the elevators. "Welcome to the Wayne Foundation, oh, you're Mrs. Wayne! How can I help you?"

"We need to call a meeting of everyone here at the Foundation," Selina said. "Is there a conference room on this floor?"

"Yes ma'am, right this way." She jumped up from the reception desk, trotted to the first door on the right down the short hallway behind the desk. This conference room was half the size of the board room outside of Fox's office, but the furniture was the same style and two walls were floor to ceiling windows. The receptionist fidgeted at the door as Montoya followed Selina to the head of the table in front of the narrower window wall. "A meeting with everyone; Ms. Allnut hasn't made it in yet."

"I know. Please gather everyone who is here. Thank you." The receptionist made a soundless oh before scurrying back to her desk.

Montoya sat on Selina's left and pulled out her notebook. Selina let her take notes, since she had to write up the press statement. That didn't take long, so she put it aside and consulted her own notes. Alfred had printed up (in between breakfast trays, putting out clothes, and making sure they got out the door on time) a Cliff Notes of what and who she needed to know at the Wayne Foundation.

The Wayne Foundation was the holding company for the Thomas Wayne Foundation and the Martha Wayne Foundation. They were all private foundations funded by shares of Wayne Enterprises that added to what Bruce personally owned to make him the majority shareholder. As a private foundation, it gave out grants and provided oversight for the charities doing the grunt work. Some had such a reliance on the Wayne Foundation they used the name as advertisement like the Wayne Foundation soup kitchens, which were actually run by various religious organizations.

She had gotten that far when the Wayne Foundation employees began to trickle in. She smiled at them. "Please find a seat." They circled around the table and lined along the walls, nearly thirty all together. The receptionist was the last one in. "Thank you for coming. I'm Selina Kyle Wayne and I have some upsetting news for all of you. Harriet Allnut was murdered last night."

The gasps and shocked expressions Selina saw were genuine enough. She wasn't a detective, but she knew how to read a room. Despite Bruce's worries, she didn't think Harriet's murderer was here.

"I know this is a bad shock, but I'm requesting that you stay until Detective Montoya has finished asking you questions. After that, if you need to take a personal day, I'll approve that as long as no one needs a check from the Foundation today."

A man about her age on the right side of the table shook his head. "Where's Mr. Wayne? I mean, why are you the one telling us?"

"And you are?"

"Daniel Cooper, chief financial officer."

"Bruce wanted to come, but he's running two companies now, and meetings with City Hall can't be rescheduled. So I'm stepping into Ms. Allnut's place until a replacement is hired. She wouldn't want the Foundation's work stopped because of this." That set off nodding and sniffling in her audience. "Thank you, everyone, I know I can count on all of you as we get through this."

Montoya stood as people stirred. "I'd like to see Ms. Allnut's executive assistant first please." She turned to Selina. "I also need a list of Foundation employees."

Selina handed over the list of names Alfred had included in her notes. So that's why he printed two copies of that page. Then she caught up with the receptionist whose eyes watered no match how much she blinked. "Here's the statement for the press when they start calling. Can you show me to Ms. Allnut's office?"

It was at the end of the short hallway beside the conference room. A low-walled cubicle was set next to the office door as the hallway turned to the left. The floor-to-ceiling window was on the west side of the building and looked over the shorter buildings across the street. This was a different side of the building and lower than Bruce's office. A white table with brown leather chairs was set against the glass so everyone could share the view. The computer desk was set against the door wall where one sitting behind it saw who entered the office. The white walls were bare. Artwork would compete with the view, but everything on this floor seemed so bare. She took out her phone and typed in a quick note about redecorating before going to the computer desk. Two file folders sat in the metal stand next to the monitor. One was labeled "Thomas Wayne Foundation: Current Projects," the other "Martha Wayne Foundation: Current Projects."

She lifted both folders and sat at the other table. If Montoya needed to search the computer desk, it would look better if Selina hadn't done it first. What bothered Harriet Allnut was probably in these folders.

The Thomas Wayne Foundation focused on medical interest. There was a list of candidates for an annual award for medical breakthroughs and lifelong commitment. It funded a scholarship to Hudson University's College of Physicians and Surgeons and one to School of Nursing. There was a note about creating a series of free clinics patterned after the East Eighteenth Street Clinic. A handwritten note had been added under the typed words: "partnership with universities providing hands-on medical training? Get firm numbers on operating costs."

The Martha Wayne Foundation supported arts, families, education, and tolerance. The soup kitchens had a note on increased food costs. The grants for artists had been temporarily frozen despite the unique opportunity to beautify the city during rebuilding. The list of learning disabilities specialist teachers needed updating. There was an inspection of St. Swithin's physical building and found woefully undersized for the amount of children it housed now. No suitable replacement building had been found yet. "Look for property suitable for building" was the note attached. A printed-out email from Bruce asked what to do about the system's aging children out at sixteen. "They haven't even finished high school yet and they are expected to support themselves?" It had worked out in Selina's favor after she escaped prison, but she also knew she was lucky in landing on her feet. Too many kids ended up as prey to the predators out there.

"Mrs. Wayne? Mrs. Wayne!" Selina looked at the door. A plump Asian woman with an accent straight from West Village flapped her hands. "Ms. Allnut has a lunch meeting today. I just got the email calendar alert. It says a possible donor at the Ocelot. It would have to be a Warren Buffet like donor, but I have no idea who that would be!" Her hands almost took off as she wailed the last.

Selina closed the folders and found her purse. "Who are you and what do you do here?"

"I'm Yin Bai, Ms. Allnut's executive assistant." Her red-scrubbed face and bloodshot eyes screwed up. "You probably want someone else to assist you--"

"Stop right there. I'm not hiring or firing anyone. Now call down for a car to meet me at the door so I can make this meeting."

Yin Bai nodded and reentered the cubicle outside the door while Selina headed to the elevators. She had no idea what a Warren Buffet like donor mean, but surely nothing would be derailed once Selina explained the circumstances. And if this mysterious donor did pitch a fit, well, they didn't want to do business with that type.

A doorman held open a taxi when she reached the sidewalk. "Sorry, Mrs. Wayne, all the company cars are in use."

"This is fine, thank you. The Ocelot as fast as you can."

The taxi driver was good and they reached the restaurant in fifteen minutes. The maître d' was a different road block. "There is no reservation for the Wayne Foundation or under Allnut, madam."

"Fine," Selina returned the haughty glare and stepped out of the line of people with reservations. She'd figure this out without using Bruce's influence. She dug into her purse as she moved closer to the outer door. Her arm stung as she found her cell phone.

Before she pulled up her contacts list, a wave of dizziness hit her. That hadn't happened in a while. Where was a seat? She reached for the wall, but a male arm supported her arm instead. "Let's get you some air, ma chérie." His other arm circled around her back and he guided her out the door while he eyes tried to blink away the fuzzy. His coat sleeve was green. Why? It wasn't St. Patrick's Day yet.

Phone, she need to find the donor's name. She moved it in front of her face. A purple gloved hand slid the phone from her slack fingers. "I procured us a taxi, dear. You'll feel better once your feet are up."

The dizziness hit harder as she sat on the back seat of the taxi. She closed her eyes so the world would stop spinning. It didn't help. A new male voice spoke. "I thought you said it was a guy."

"I'm not paying you to think," Green-coat man snapped beside her. Selina decided to look at his face, but her eyes didn't open and roaring covered her ears.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

Bruce pressed the elevator button and reflected over the planning committee's reaction to Revitalize Gotham's presentation. Their price for repairing Gotham Stadium had shocked the committee, but they were the only company who hadn't decided to demolish the remaining structure and start over. The plans Daggett had worked up were structurally sound and the stadium remains were certified explosive-free, so the only thing Revitalize Gotham added was a memorial wall to name those who died during the Occupation. A proposed budget that low was bound to shock government officials.

The elevator door opened on his office's floor and Detective Montoya sat in his waiting room. "Detective, I do have something for you." She followed him into his office. He set down his briefcase and passed her the stack of printouts from his desk. "Emails between me and Harriet since the Occupation ended. Selina said Harriet was annoyed with me, but I didn't see it until I reread all of them."

"You missed that but your wife saw it?" Montoya took the papers.

"Apparently they had a talk about me last night." Bruce looked rueful as he sat behind his desk. "I only found out about it this morning."

"Where is your wife, Mr. Wayne?"

"I left her with you."

"She left for a lunch meeting while I was interviewing people. No one knew where, so I assumed it was code for you two to see each other."

"I wish; I just got back from City Hall." He picked up the phone and called Selina's cell phone. The call went straight to voice mail. "Selina, call back. Detective Montoya has questions for you." His next call was the speed dial to Harriet's office phone.

"Wayne Foundation, this is Julia, how can I help you?"

"Julia, hello, this is Bruce Wayne. Do you know where my wife is?"

"Oh, she still not back from the lunch meeting, Mr. Wayne. Ms. Bai was worried that it was taking so long, and called the restaurant, but they didn't know what she was talking about and she had to leave and pick up her kids, so that's why I'm answering her phone."

"Thank you, Julia. If you see Selina, tell her to check her voice mail." He hung up and booted up his computer. "Let's see what Harriet had planned for today."

Montoya moved around his desk so she could see the monitor as he opened up Harriet Allnut's email account. "Do you routinely hack into your employees emails?"

"Never had to before. But Harriet had a lunch appointment with a donor at the Ocelot. No name given for who the mysterious donor is or how they plan to donate to a private foundation." Bruce coaxed more detail from the computer. "Looks like the appointment was added from her home computer yesterday."

"Is there a time stamp?" Montoya leaned closer.

"10:15 p.m. according to this. You'd have to look at her home computer to be absolutely sure."

"And it came from her home computer? Not through her cell phone?"

Bruce frowned. "That's Harriet's home IP; I've seen it many times."

Montoya pulled out her own cell phone and retreated around his desk. "Ethan? Did you guys examine Allnut's computer yet? Someone was putting an appointment on her work email while she was coming home from the party."

A cold claw squeezed Bruce's lungs. He looked up the Ocelot reservation desk's number. "I'm trying to get a message to my wife. She'd be seated at the Allnut table."

"There is no reservation under Allnut. There has never been a reservation for Allnut today. Go bother another restaurant with this prank." The phone slammed down on the other end.

He scowled as he put down his receiver. "He must be new."

"The restaurant?" Montoya slipped her phone into her jacket pocket.

"Never had a reservation for Harriet Allnut." Bruce stood up. "I imagine you want to see the security footage as badly as I do now."

"It will take time to get a warrant."

"Not necessary when the owner gives you permission in exchange for a ride."

Montoya didn't press him for small talk in the unmarked police car, which worked for him because he needed to call Alfred. "Everyone accounted for?"

"Miss Stephanie and I just returned from collecting Miss Jen from the train station. I'm preparing afternoon tea while the young ladies begin homework."

"Secure the home front." It was ingrained too deeply not to lie to Alfred. "Selina's missing and it may be connected to Harriet Allnut's murder."

"Should I inform Miss Jen?"

"Use your judgment on that. It might be best to wait until after Stephanie's bedtime. I'd rather her not know."

"Very well, sir, don't worry about things here; just concentrate on finding the missus."

They hung up just as the car reached the Ocelot. The maître d' recognized his face when he saw it, and didn't hide his questioning look at Montoya who brought out her badge before he asked how many in their party. She pointed to the security camera mounted on the ceiling. "Detective Montoya, MCU, we need to see that security footage now."

"You what?"

"I've already given her permission," Bruce said.

"This is highly irregular."

"This stopped being highly irregular when a woman who came in for a non-existent reservation cannot be reached by anyone." Bruce leaned over the reservation desk. "Her disappearance may have been recognized hours earlier had you cooperated with her assistant." His fingers dug into the decorative trim of the podium. "Hanging up on her husband trying to find her is not the customer service I expect from a restaurant I own."

The maître d's Adam's apple bobbed over his black tie. "Your wife?"

"Is missing. Either handle this request or get someone out here that can," Bruce all but growled.

Montoya slipped her badge back into her jacket.

"Just one minute, just one." The maître d' scurried through the main dining room.

Henri, the chef-owner, came out of the back a few short minutes later. "Mr. Wayne, your wife came here for lunch? No one told me."

Bruce pulled his temper back under control. "We need to see your security footage to find out what happened. Selina left for a reservation here, but there's no reservation."

"Bien sûr, this way." The older man in the white chef's jacket led them through the swinging door into the kitchen. He took a sharp right turn before they went past the metal counters and opened a closet door. Only this closet held a desk, computer, and a stool. "Security footage is on this now." Henri perched on the stool and clicked with the mouse. "You want the lobby, oui?"

"Yes, around noon." Bruce and Montoya leaned over Henri's shoulders as he selected the file.

The resolution was a bit grainy, but the same maître d' was at the desk. Selina joined the line at 12:10 according to the time stamp. "Selina made it here," Bruce said through his tightening throat as she opened her black wool coat and adjusted her purse. They watched the silent argument take place which ended with Selina retreating from the desk, moving closer to the door as the tiny lobby filled with patrons, and opening her purse.

A man in a green coat and bowler moved behind her. Selina lurched for the wall, but the strange man with questionable fashion sense wrapped his arms around her. She continued to list as he steered them out the glass doors.

"Do you have outside cameras?" Montoya asked.

"No, there has never been a need," Henri answered. "Your wife, maybe faint because of the baby?"

"Everything was fine on her last check up and this morning," Bruce said. "And no hospital or doctor's office has contacted me or Alfred."

"Replay it again," Montoya said.

Bruce leaned back and pulled out his phone. Nightwing's user ID was logged into the bunker's computer. He typed in a text message to override whatever he was running. Search hospital emergency rooms for Selina's admittance.

Montoya muttered under her breath in Spanish. "There are no good shots of his face. He knows where the camera is."

Bruce looked at the footage again. How could Selina of all people be so careless to let a stranger touch her? "She's been drugged. If she was just pregnancy fatigued or dizzy, she wouldn't have walked out with him."

The text message alert beeped on his phone. Negative on hospital search. Selina's missing?

"There's green beside her arm before he moves behind her." Montoya straightened and looked Bruce in the eye. "I'm afraid this looks like a kidnapping."

"Married less than twenty-four hours before a kidnapping, that has to be a record." Bruce shook his head. "You better tell the Commissioner." He typed a response to Nightwing while Montoya turned away for her call. Selina kidnapped connected to Allnut murder.

"Forensics has to confirm the appointment was set up by someone other than Allnut, but Mrs. Wayne still hasn't returned Wayne's phone call." Montoya paused. "Yes, sir, I will." She turned around. "We need a copy of that file, she pointed to the computer. "The Commissioner wants to see you about this."

"Of course." He typed to Nightwing. Meet at Gordon's office.

The ride to City Hall was silent. Bruce consoled the coldness inside him that this kidnapper, even if he had murdered Harriet, didn't know who he had really kidnapped. Selina would school him thoroughly and bloodily. He refused to think about drug side effects on pregnancies.

Gordon had redecorated one of City Hall's conference rooms into an investigation room. Crime scene photographs from Harriet Allnut's condominium were tacked up on a wall along with photographs of Cartier's vandalism, a green card on a glass wall, a green card on a restaurant table, a green spray-painted question mark on a painted brick wall, and others. Bruce turned away and watched Nightwing lay plastic-shrouded green cards onto the conference table from his case. Montoya frowned at them. "What is the perp's fascination with green?"

"Why does he have a fascination with question marks?" Nightwing countered.

Gordon grunted as he plugged the laptop in at the far end of the conference table. "Let's see this kidnapping before we cover what else we know."

Bruce didn't watch it again. Instead he read the green poster board: 

> Cats fear water and have their own marks  
> Head here to make up for your lack of birthmarks.

He glanced up at the photographs on the wall. The poster had been taped to the side of a building.

"Kidnapping is exactly what it looks like," Gordon said. "And I don't know if the correspondence found at the crime scene counts as a ransom note." He waved his hand at the table before unplugging the flash drive. "Take it to Forensics and see if they can do anything to I.D. the bastard."

Montoya pressed her lips together as she took the flash drive. Her brown eyes flickered over Bruce and Nightwing. "Yes, sir." She resealed the evidence bag holding the drive and left.

Bruce held it in until the door shut behind her. "What the hell happened last night?"

"Everywhere I went last night had 'cat' in it," Nightwing said as he crossed his arms. "I should have guessed he'd target Selina next."

Gordon shook his head. "We all thought the trail led to Allnut's murder. And the note we found at the scene broke the cat trend." He forestalled Bruce's explosion by standing up and flipping over a white board. A timeline had been filled in on the opposite side. "The murderer set up his scavenger hunt as businesses closed for the night or in the case of the Fat Cat bar, used their reservation set up for his clue. Then he broke into Allnut's condo, set up the fake reservation in her work email, and killed her as soon as she returned home. Two bullets to the torso."

Nightwing picked up the report with a bitterly edged voice. "At that point, he turned on Cartier's altered outside decorations and went home to bed. Meanwhile, I followed the clues to Trillium Park Zoo, Katz's Deli, Fat Cat, sidetracked to the Algonquin, former location of the Gotham Book Mart, Stray Cat Tattoos, and finally to Allnut's condo."

"On Lyons Avenue," Bruce said as he moved to the end of the table. The clue that had been displayed on the LED gift tag had been typed up on a sheet of paper.

> Behold the mighty panther!  
> These jewelers co-opted the fearless beast  
> for an icon of all desires thanks to artiste.  
> Elegance and independence trapped in gems and gold.  
> Bah, who can be bothered with things so cold?  
> Not for me such classy bling,  
> I'd rather have the real thing.

That led to the zoo. The front of the card had "So you might be smart enough to play along" and a smiley face printed on it in gold foil.

"He doesn't have a high opinion of your brains, Nightwing," Bruce said knowing the other two men were waiting for a comment.

"He's justified," Nightwing answered. 

Bruce held his hand up as he read the zoo clue. 

> Changed my mind, he's not petite  
> Out of house I'd be with how he'd eat.  
> Now I'm hungry, but I won't have what she's having.  
> Pastrami on rye with mustard, oh what a craving.

Two different references to Katz's Deli, he noted as he moved to the next clue.

> "The chase is on" was the outburst,  
> Forgot mustard gives me quite the thirst.  
> So where do brainy kitties go for more games with their beer?  
> Everybody knows I like chess at Cheers.

Nightwing found the clue at the right bar. The fingerprints on the envelope all belonged to a bartender who Nightwing had spoken with.

> "It is time to find congenial company.  
> Wise men, notable women, words and cats accompany  
> Ideas contained in the most portable format.  
> So ponder does every writer own a literary cat?"

"You thought this clue referred to Matilda?"

"Does everyone in the city know about that cat but me? Actually it was the bartender's idea; sounded like it fit. The concierge told me about Gotham Book Mart."

Bruce moved to the poster and read it again. That led to the tattoo parlor. 

> Home despite not being Pride Rock  
> But with that name you expect a flock.

"Pride Rock?" he asked.

"Where the lions live in _the Lion King_ ," Nightwing explained.

Gordon's mustache twitched. "You'll be sucked into the cult of Disney soon enough."

Bruce locked down the panic that he wouldn't, not if something happened to Selina and the baby. They'd take Stephanie away too and be right to do so. Everything he wanted always died. He punched the thought further down. "What he left at Harriet's condo didn't match these six clues?"

"Seven," Nightwing corrected. The bitter was back in his voice. "He didn't start last night. The first message was left on the Tumbler six weeks ago." He went to his case and set a white piece of paper sheathed in plastic at the beginning end of the table.

Gordon and Bruce reached it at the same time. This poem was typed in green ink.

> Some bluebirds told me,  
> They saw a puddy **k** at,  
> In a concrete cage,  
> Made by Bane.
> 
> She wasn't alone tee-he,  
> She never named the bat,  
> But what acts the **y** did engage,  
>  Before boom went the plane.
> 
> Did anyone foresee,  
> That I found the puddykat,  
> In a gi **l** ded cage,  
> Owned by Wayne.
> 
> How could she agree  
> To forget the bat?  
> No grief to assuag **e** ,  
> __________ shows no pain.

"Why am I just now hearing about this? When the bolded letters spell out Kyle?" Bruce clenched his fists.

"It was the night of the Evermonds raid," Nightwing answered. His bitterness leached away and uncovered the pain. "I figured someone on the force made sense of all the rumors and chose a nutty way to warn us. I told Selina to scale back her City Hall visits."

"This lousy poet knows who Catwoman is, knows about Batman and Bane--" Bruce pulled a ragged breath. "Do I even what to know about the rumors?"

"Why kidnap her?" Gordon's mild voice refocused their attention on the case. "To prove he's right? Because this is not a ransom note." He tapped his fingers on the table next to the last plastic shrouded, green sheet of paper.

Bruce returned to the end of the table with the laptop and read the green sheet.

> What name belongs on the record of birth?  
> Loss of consortium leads to no mirth.  
> Come to your old tree house if benedict has any worth.

Bruce pulled out his cell phone to double-check definitions.

"Where was it?" Nightwing demanded after he read it.

"Taped under the green lamp he pointed out the window," Gordon answered. "Forensics found the riddle while they printed it."

"Benedict means bridegroom," Bruce read from his phone. "Loss of consortium is a legal term for the inability to have normal marital relations."

"Lack of sex does lead to no mirth," Nightwing said, "and doesn't require a dictionary."

"Marital relations, marriage, he planned on kidnapping me." Bruce closed his eyes as he imagined today with a difference. "I'm the head director over the Wayne Foundation. I ran it before Harriet's hire, so of course I'd step in during an emergency. And I would have run to keep Harriet's mysterious appointment for the Foundation's sake and to see if it was a lead on her murder. Just like Selina did."

"So it's Selina's tree house we have to find? That kind of information isn't in her police file, pre- or post-Cadmus hiring her." Gordon's forehead furrowed.

"Her sister probably knows," Nightwing suggested.

Selina diligently took Stephanie to the park. "My parents did it for me and I'm fine." So they never had a yard with a tree large enough for a tree house. "Willowwood. He knows about Willowwood." Bruce opened his eyes.

Gordon blanched. "Those girls were in there?"

Bruce nodded as he turned to the door.

Nightwing stepped in front of him. "You can't, Bruce." Bruce's snarl died in his throat with the younger man's next words. "I'll bring her back."

Gordon clamped Bruce's shoulder in a vice while Nightwing left the room. "Come on, son; let's go get your car while we wait."


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Selina suppressed her groan as she became aware of her pounding head. If she was stupid enough to get drunk, she would suffer the hangover in dignity. But why had she gotten drunk? She hadn't had any alcohol since finding out she was pregnant. She also wouldn't order alcohol with a business lunch. Her empty stomach rumbled. Wait, no, she never had lunch.

She opened her eyes and floodlights stabbed them through a blurry haze. She squeezed them shut again and concentrated on her other senses. She smelled dust burning in the lights. They were powerful enough to hum and closer than the generator chugging behind a wall. Papers crinkled as they were flexed and she heard a chair scrape on the floor. So she wasn't alone in here.

Her body rested against a hard wooden chair. Her arms ran along the edge of the back down past the seat. She tugged experimentally and felt two bracelets around her wrists, double handcuffs? Her wrists only moved a few centimeters from the chair. Her legs were splayed against the chair's front legs. Leggings still in place but cuffs were around her ankles and her stomach felt cold and slimy.

The baby kicked. She dropped her chin and blinked away the blurry. Her purple shirt was pulled up over the baby bump and ultrasound gel was smeared over her skin.

Her slumbering bone-deep anger ignited with the heat of a thousand desert suns. She knew how to use this heat. She closed her eyes and saw the bastard stepping in front of her and the social worker helping her get the kids and Jen out of that hell hole. Her foot remembered kicking him across the room. She knew how to focus this heat. Bane pointed a short-barreled shotgun at Batman's head. Her body rocked again with the blast from the Batpod's guns. Oh yes, she knew how to hide this heat. Her baby kicked again.

She lifted her chin and stared unblinking at the shuffling chair noises. "Don't be shy," she called out coyly.

A pen clicked closed and the papers ruffled before going into a pocket before the chair scraped. A male voice answered. "It is good sense not to climb over the fence at the zoo. The same good sense applies here."

"You think I'm wild animal dangerous? Perceptive, kidnapper who has threatened my baby."

"You weren't supposed to be there!" He paced in the shadows behind the light stands. "I got a fetal Doppler and measured the heartbeat." She looked down when he shuffled through papers on a table. The beige and pink device about the size of a tablet computer with a wand connected by a spiral cord sat on the concrete floor and had a blank screen. "It came back with 145 and didn't set off the built-in alarm, so nothing has happened to the presumptive Wayne heir." He set the rustling papers down again. "I would perform another test to set your mind at ease, but we both know I'm safer over here. Besides, you did adopt the other rug rat so you have a spare."

The growl that filled her throat surprised her as much as it did her kidnapper. He hit his chair as he stepped back. "Go make your ransom demand already if all you can do is insult my children."

"Yes, well, okay, that was rude. But I'm not interested in money. I want the answer to Gotham's greatest riddle, Catwoman."

If he thought that would throw her off this game, he didn't know who he was playing against. "I'm not--"

"Don't insult my intelligence, Ms. Kyle," he interrupted. "Sorry, are you keeping your maiden name? Or do you prefer Mrs. Wayne? All the inane questions they lobed at you during that _Gotham Tonight_ interview and they skipped that one. They also skipped what the hell Wayne is getting out of this deal, but we'll get to that later." He moved his chair and sat down again. "Right now, we're establishing why there is no point in lying to me, Catwoman. What doesn't change its strips? Roger Cly doesn't fit Catwoman's victim profile, but every story says the same thing: she beat the hide off that sick S.O.B. and dropped his victim off at the East Eighteenth Street Clinic. So damn consistent. But Cly wasn't rich or between you and a prize, and while Batman may have awakened an altruistic spirit in you enough to save and keep the kid, nearly killing the man didn't fit. Until I found the connected that everyone had overlooked. How many times did Cly rape you in Willowwood when he worked here?"

Selina blinked; focusing beyond four floodlights dried her eyes. "So you found out I was a ward of the state housed at Willowwood. It's not secret."

"No kidding. Cadmus didn't bother to alter those records. Now they did assign you and your sister a foster family after the orphanage closed down, much nicer that the women's prison you ended up in a year later. Your sister!" He slapped his leg. "Cly's a specialized pervert and he hurt your sister, same blonde hair and blue eyes like the next to youngest Wayne. Don't bother denying it. Cly was arrested for pedophilia three months before Willowwood closed, the keystone event that get the investigators interested."

She was getting annoyed with Bruce's tracking devices. How long was it supposed to take? As empty as her stomach was, lunch was hours ago. Somebody should have noticed she hadn't come back by now. She'd keep stalling for time since she didn't have any lockpicks on her. Next time she left the Manor, she'd bring multiple copies. "So I must be Catwoman because I was at Willowwood when Cly used his job to molest children. That conclusion is weak, but you're right on why I insisted on keeping Stephanie when Catwoman brought her to the clinic."

"My conclusions are flawless," he snapped back, "and nobody has seen Catwoman since you turned up pregnant."

Selina rolled her eyes. "Maybe she just left town."

"And maybe that baby isn't Wayne's."

"We spent the Occupation in his panic room and things happened."

"Please, puddykat, the pair of you sell it well, but you spent the Occupation as Bane's prisoner with the Batman. Now it is interesting why you want the world to think your baby is Wayne's child and why Wayne is going along with it, but it pales beside what only you can answer." The chair scraped against the floor. "Who was Batman?"

Selina blinked. "Batman's dead."

"And that makes it the ultimate riddle."

Her eyebrows rose without her prompting. "That's why you kidnapped me?"

The chair shot back against a metal wall as he jumped off of it. "Eight years! Who is the Batman? See if you can figure it out since Gotham City P.D. isn't trying at all. Eight years! The only damn challenge in this city for eight years and he blows himself up before he can match wits with me. Who was the Batman? I think I'm entitled to know."

The baby kicked. Selina swallowed as she searched for a response. Impressed respect for her husband's abilities to obscure wouldn't go over well. She settled on pity and tilted her head. "Do you mind passing my kidnapping to someone sane? Who will call my husband and demand money. Otherwise, I'll be here all night."

He stopped pacing. "I'm a patient man. I've been working this riddle for eight years."

Her contained fury leaked out in irritation. "Okay, if you're so smart, how do you know if I'm telling you the truth? You don't believe me when I tell you I'm not Catwoman and I don't know who Batman was. How are you going to believe any name I give you?"

"You were supposed to tell me in exchange for Wayne! But you showed up at the restaurant and I couldn't let all my hard work go to waste."

She shook her head. "He had a meeting with City Hall today and couldn't reschedule."

"And our newly elected officials decided to prove they can't be influenced by not letting Bruce Wayne have a honeymoon." He moved the chair in the shadows until it bumped into the table. "Well, since you won't cooperate, I have to go plan a reunion for you two. Or maybe little orphan Annie in peril will loosen your lips."

His footsteps crossed the room behind the light stands, and then a heavy door squeaked its hinges and settled against the door jamb with a muffled slam. She listened for a few minutes until she was sure she was alone. "Oh goddamnit, why couldn't he just want money?"

The baby kicked. "Okay, okay." Selina craned her chin over her shoulder and looked down her left arm. Both bracelets of the handcuff were around her wrist and the chain of the cuffs wrapped around the leg of the chair under the seat. She leaned forward and saw the same method immobilizing her legs.

She looked up. The pool of light revealed a smooth, metal ceiling and a rusted cooling unit mounted at the top of the left wall. Stuck in a walk-in freezer, what were her escape options that wouldn't hurt her or the baby? Her center of gravity was off and degloving her hands grossed her out. _Think, Selina, think!_

* * *

Nightwing parked the Tumbler next to the gate in the tall fence around the abandoned building. He looked up at the dark four-story building that could fit three St. Swithin's inside of it. The swirl of corrupt and abusive staff, mentally disturbed children allowed to terrorize others, neglect and apathy had been closed before his father died, but there were enough kids around who experienced it by the time he joined the system Willowwood had become the bogeyman of orphanages. He remembered the haunted eyes of an older boy who stopped his complaining about St. Swithin's. "It's not Willowwood."

Willowwood started as a modest mansion in Upper West Hill where the shipping magnate who built it could reach his warehouses in the China Docks easily. Then the rich moved the fashionable addresses to East Park Side and a children's aid society bought the property. That's when the decorative but tall iron fence went around and closed off the half-circle drive to the front door. The straight driveway that went behind the building had been sealed off with a chain-link fence gate. He climbed out of the Tumbler and approached that gate. The monsters were gone now and if a new one had moved in here, it was his job to stop him. Besides, he owed Selina a rescue.

Chain was wrapped around the center supports, but no padlock closed the ends. He pushed them open and the hinges didn't even squeak. He drove the Tumbler inside the fence and focused the heat sensor on the brick building.

The deserted building had a heat signature rising out of the basement and a smaller one on the second floor. He parked next to the building and walked up the paving stones to the main door. It stood open to the cold night air.

The foyer's stone floor rose up in steps into a hall. A large window across it showed the grand columned staircase on the other side of the wall. He headed to the archway on the right, found the stairs, moved up. A man stood on the second floor landing dressed in a green suit and bowler. A stick-on LED light illuminated the landing and the upper portion of the stairs and he leaned against the column under it writing in a crossword puzzle book. His purple-gloved hands clicked the pen, rolled up the thin booklet, and stowed both in his jacket pocket before he looked down at the vigilante. "Nightwing, n'est-ce pas? I may have underestimated you, kid."

"Who are you and what have you done with Selina Wayne?" Nightwing moved up a step.

"Starting off with questions, you know the way to my heart." He grinned and tapped the gold question mark tie pin on his purple necktie. "Call me the Riddler." He wore a purple domino mask under the hat.

"Okay, Riddler, where is Selina Wayne?"

"You'll have to catch me to find out." He pivoted and pushed through the double doors behind him.

Nightwing ran up the last steps and across the short hallway. The double doors led into the mansion's original library. The built-in bookcases still lined the wall he could see. But the interior had posts set up with opaque fabric stretched between them forming walls. They didn't reach the ceiling, but they stretched two feet over his head. Carpet underneath muffled footsteps. The stick-on LED lights dotted the room to provide pools of illumination that didn't spill out the windows.

He dashed ahead and turned to the right as soon as an opening appeared in the fabric wall. It dead-ended on him. He glared at the black fabric and pulled out a Batarang. As soon as the sharp, metal edge poked into the fabric, an electrical jolt pulsed up his arm to his elbow. He dropped the weapon and shook the numbness out. So he had to run the maze.

He didn't want to think about how much time was passing as he backtracked from wrong turns, came to an outer window and realized it was boarded up, finally found a second pair of doors out of the library and into a classroom for the orphanage, through a wall into a restroom with filthy fixtures left behind, and uncovered door to another classroom and all filled with winding cloth walls. So of course his brain provided the ticking second hand sound just for fun. He heard footsteps moving up a wooden staircase before he reached the end of the maze at the door of the classroom in a small hallway with stairs up to the third floor. He charged up them.

The fabric maze started in the third floor hallway. Nightwing groaned under his breath and listened. No footsteps echoed. He flattened himself against the wall and scooted to the right between the physical wall and the fabric one. _Avoid the whole damn thing_ , he felt better as he turned through a door. Even if he went around the whole perimeter of the building, it would be faster than all the stupid dead-ends.

The floor dropped out from under his feet.

A chute plunged him through the walls and floors of the building. He rammed his hands and feet against the sides to slow his descent. They slipped off the greased metal. The chute ended and he clawed the air before landing into a rotting pile of sheets. The sides of the laundry cart holding them ripped apart and tumbled him and the contents to the floor.

He tore his way out of the fabric. His flashlight revealed industrial-sized washing machines and dryers rusting to pieces and a new generator chugging away on the south wall. The power cord passed through a freshly drilled hole in the baseboard. He hurried out of the laundry, ignored the fabric wall in front of him, and turned to the next room. It was a walk-in freezer. He threw open the thick door.

The power cord from the generator ran to four flood lights on stands focused on the woman seated in the center of the freezer. "Mrs. Wayne!"

Selina squinted. "Nightwing? You better make sure he can't lock us both in here." Her purple maternity shirt had been shifted to uncover her swollen belly, but otherwise she looked unharmed.

He picked up a chair tucked under a table set inside the freezer and jammed it into the door hinges. Now the door couldn't shut on them. "Are you okay?" He stepped over the power cords.

"I'll be better once you get me out of these cuffs." Nightwing paused before moving closer to the chair. She caught the hesitation. "You have no idea how to pick a lock, do you?"

"I never needed to pick handcuffs before." He circled around the chair and studied how she was secured. The handcuffs were on each wrist and ankle so the chain wrapped around the chair leg.

"Of course not."

"New plan, don't bother." He wrapped one arm around her upper chest and tipped her into it, resting her weight on it and the two front chair legs. His foot thrust down on the right back chair leg. It broke with a satisfying crack and he tugged the chain down past the splinters. Once her hand was free, Selina latched onto his shoulder. The second leg broke just as easily, and he was able to pull the chair away from her legs when she stood up. "Good to go? Your stuff is by the door."

"Grab that." She pointed to the beige and pink device on the floor as she marched over the power cords. She pulled out a set of her goggles disguised as sunglasses out of her purse while stuffing the papers left on the table into it. The device went in too and she pulled on her coat. "Get me out to the street and you're free to pound his ass." She headed out the door while he adjusted the light settings on his mask. "What the hell? What kind of funhouse is this?"

"Willowwood. He built more mazes upstairs." Nightwing stepped out of the freezer. The light from the freezer door helped but most of the basement beyond the fabric walls ahead of them was lost to the blackness.

"Willowwood." Selina's low voice didn't infuse the name with any warm and fuzzy associations. "Freezer, laundry, boiler room, kitchens, the stairs up to the dining room are this way." She turned right around the freezer and they faced what looked like a closet door.

"I'll go first. Riddler's probably waiting right behind an exit this easy." Nightwing moved around Selina.

"Riddler? He calls himself the Riddler?" She moved closer behind him and peered over his shoulder. "Wait!"

The warning came too late. His hand had already twisted the door knob and set off the incendiary blast. The door shielded them from the heat, but flames covered the stairwell.

Selina pulled him back from the fire. "Was it not challenging enough before?"

"His last booby trap was a trapdoor! Where's another exit?"

Selina gestured at the dark basement behind them. "The delivery entrance is straight that way at the rear of the building." She reached for the panel of fabric in the way.

His hand was quicker this time and he grabbed her arm before she touched it. "It's electrified."

She didn't say anything and he couldn't see her eyes behind the goggle lenses. Her leg shot out, sending the closest pole crashing to the ground. She pivoted and dragged him to the broken pole. "Disconnected one and they all go out. Like Christmas tree lights. Don't tell Bruce I did that." She rubbed her stomach.

"Did what?" He yanked the wires out of the bottom of the pole and they sparked. The Batarang sliced through the black panel without a shock. Now they ran across the basement, avoiding the remnants of the kitchen equipment and dodging burning debris falling from above. The fire roared overhead and ran faster than they could. "He must have spread an accelerant; I never smelled it!" Nightwing yelled over noise.

"This isn't how I wanted to watch this place burn!" Selina yelled back. "The basement door," she pointed up.

The truck-sized wooden door was set above their heads in a smooth brick wall. The staircase up to it had been sawed away from the wall and hauled off. Flames already licked through it. He pulled a mini-mine off his belt and threw it. The boards and a few bricks shattered into the night. Nightwing fired the grapple gun up and out.

Selina tucked her hair under the collar of her coat. "I am so teaching you how to B&E!" She wrapped her arms around his armored neck.

He gripped her as the winch on the belt pulled them up and through the lingering flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying really hard not to beg for reviews in this novel and I know right now school routines are being built and all that fun jazz. But every time I see a blast against this Selina and Bruce and TDKR from people who I otherwise agree with it starts up my jerkbrain comments: "why are you bothering with this story" followed with "you're an idiot for seeing something good in this movie" and "nobody is really reading your dreck." So it would be easier to get through the next chapter if you readers spoke up. The Riddler kidnapped Selina after all!
> 
> **Update 9/2/2015:** Wow, am I overdue for this explanation or what? It did get parsed out in the comments, but in case you're a reader who doesn't read those, here's the background to the original author's note on this chapter.
> 
> I'm not on Tumblr, but I have twenty on Feedly that I watch for art, gifsets, and brilliant commentary for the Nolanverse, BatCat, and Helena Wayne. Before this chapter was originally posted, it used to be twenty-one. A Tumblr dedicated to BatCat bashed the Nolanverse version, the one all my Batman fics are centered on. I was blindsided by this and through my luck, everyone else who supports _the Dark Knight Rises_ went quiet.
> 
> Too quiet and combined with other stressors in my life at the time, my jerkbrain ([Captain Awkward](http://captainawkward.com/)) proceeded to attack how wrong I was about the pairing and about the story and about everything else in my life. This attack happened while I was editing this chapter for posting, so I ended up adding the begging author's note above (which I'm leaving up so the comments below make sense) and alarming many of my readers.
> 
> Good conversations followed, I deleted the Tumblr from my Feedly list, and finished the story. I hope you're enjoying it as well.


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Coughing, they lurched from the burning building. Neither one of them had been singed, much less burnt. Nightwing kept one arm wrapped around Selina while he hit the Tumbler's autopilot remote. She sagged against him. "Selina?" The Tumbler rolled around the building, braked in front of them, and slid open the canopy. His rush of adrenaline gathered the woman into his arms and ran her to the passenger side of the Tumbler. No complaints as he secured her to the seat.

He ignored his qualms and checked her vitals. Airway clear, pulse good, she was just out cold. He set a small breathing mask over her nose and mouth. A little oxygen couldn't hurt after the smoke.

Willowwood's four stories burned rapidly now. The snow in the driveway melted from the heat. He sighed and looked over the Tumbler. A green sheet of paper was under the windshield wiper. 

> Gee, that was fun  
> Second to none  
> Let's do it again  
> You were better than Wayne.

He bagged the message and let his hands squeeze the wheel as hard as he could. It was nowhere close to as satisfying as punching that smug face would be. The Tumbler roared onto the street before he calmed enough to call Dispatch. "Nightwing reporting a fire in Upper West Hill."

The dispatcher rattled off the correct street address. "Fire units are already in route."

"I'm positive the building is clear of human life and I'm taking a witness to get medical attention. Nightwing out." The Tumbler shot over the Midtown Bridge; its tires barely touching the pavement.

They were about halfway to East Eighteenth Street Clinic when Selina stirred. She blinked and touched the oxygen mask. "Take it easy," Nightwing told her. "We're almost to Doc Leslie."

"Bruce?" She lifted the mask away. "Is Bruce okay?"

He wasn't surprised her thoughts went there first. "Bruce is fine. I mean he's upset. I had to stop him from getting into the suit. But the Riddler didn't hurt him."

"You stopped him from getting the suit?" She leaned against the seat after he nodded. "Good."

"You're turning down a rescue from Batman for me instead?"

"Batman can't come back from the dead to save me. Not when this Riddler wants under his mask." She closed her eyes and pulled off the oxygen mask. "Stephanie and Jen?"

"Alfred has the Manor on lock down."

Selina dropped into silence and Nightwing didn't question her when he noticed her hands covering her pregnant stomach. She did manage a wan smirk when the canopy slid back and showed the back entrance of the clinic. "You could have taken me to any hospital, you know."

"And I thought you didn't like the press." He helped her out of the Tumbler and made her sit in the wheelchair he found near the door. "Look, Doc Leslie and Bruce will both yell at me if you don't," he said when she frowned at it.

"Yes, we probably will." Leslie yawned as she met them in the hall. "What's wrong?"

"I was given an unknown sedative when I was kidnapped around noon," Selina answered. Leslie gasped, but Selina continued as she sat down in the wheelchair. "The baby's been kicking since I woke up and the kidnapper said he got a reading of 145 with the fetal Doppler. I don't think he was lying."

"Marrying a billionaire comes with its pitfalls," Leslie said as she shook off her shock. "Let's go to the ultrasound room first." Nightwing pushed the wheelchair down the hallway. "Why didn't you have anyone with you?"

"Cause I didn't expect to get kidnapped. Same reason why the bastard is still able to walk right now."

Leslie opened the door ahead of them. "Go find her some food. Kidnappers usually don't feed their victims."

Nightwing left them to the medical stuff and went to the staff break room. Thoughts of what could go wrong with the baby refused to stop popping into his head. Bruce would never forgive him. He found packaged sandwiches and juice boxes in the refrigerator. He put two of each on a meal tray before checking the coffee pot. He poured two mugs and put them on the tray too.

Leslie opened the door of the ultrasound room when he returned with the tray. "Give me that, we're heading down to room five."

He pushed the wheelchair to one of the rooms set aside for longer stays. "Is there a verdict yet?"

Selina's fist bunched the hospital gown she had changed into. "Not yet."

"It won't take long to run a tox screen and you can rest while you wait on Bruce." They got Selina onto the bed; Leslie drew out a vial of blood, and Nightwing texted Bruce. Brought Selina to Doc Leslie. She's okay. Checking on baby. Riddler got away. Leslie noticed the cell phone as she bandaged Selina's puncture. "Bruce is on his way? Good, you eat, young lady." She took one of the coffee mugs from the tray as she pushed the wheeled table over Selina's lap and left with her vial.

Selina opened one of the sandwiches. The rattle of the cuffs still on her wrists reminded her of something as she bit into the bread and chicken. She swallowed and pointed at him. "I am teaching you how to pick a lock before one of Gotham's loony tunes locks you up."

"Bruce will first for letting the Riddler get away." He picked up his mug of coffee but didn't drink. "If I had followed the clues better, you never would have been taken."

She swallowed her second bite before reaching for a juice box. "I will deny to my dying day I ever said this if you repeat it, but you did good work tonight. So what if the Riddler got away? He was ready to run as soon as the fire bomb went off."

"I know but--"

"You figured out his ultimate riddle." She took another bite and all that was left of the sandwich half was the crust.

"I did? Who is Batman?"

She nodded and swallowed. "That asshole said he's been trying to figure it out for eight years and still doesn't know."

He sipped his coffee as the dread in his stomach eased and he considered the implications. "Eight years, he waited until after Harvey Dent died to start looking."

She smirked before biting into the second half of the sandwich. He let her wolf down the sandwiches and fixed her a glass of water without conversation. He'd rather add her statement to the evidence with Bruce and Gordon present. He heard doors banging in the hall. Good thing there weren't any overnight patients. He opened the door. "Bruce, we're in here."

Bruce pushed him out of the way as he barged into the room and skidded to a stop seeing Selina in a hospital gown. Commissioner Gordon leaned against the doorjamb with the pallor of a hung-over man. "Let's get some coffee, Commissioner." Nightwing helped him off the doorjamb and shut the door. "Are you okay?"

"The speeding tickets I could give him." Gordon shook his head. 

* * *

Selina looked at her husband's wincing eyes and the bobbing of his Adam's apple. Otherwise, he radiated stillness at the side of her bed. It was a lie, so she waited. His voice was low and controlled when he spoke. "I made you a target."

He stood out of reach of her hand so she rolled her eyes and pushed the tray away from her. "That's the first thing that pops in your head? Not 'are you okay?' or 'what did Leslie say?' It's all somehow your fault when a nut in Gotham comes out of its shell."

She wanted to smack him, but Bruce shoved himself forward. His hands cradled her head as his lips crashed against hers. She curled her arms around his shoulders. His desperation relaxed and the kiss shifted to tender before it ended. His hands moved down to her arms when he pulled back. "What did Leslie say?"

"She's still doing tests." Her hands tightened on Bruce's jacket. "But our kid is kicking like there's a karate tournament on the line." His hand caressed her stomach until he found a firm kick. She let go of her façade with the one person who would never use it against her. "That has to be a good sign, right?"

"I think it's a sign we should put in a soccer field when we put in Stephanie's playground." His second kiss reassured her, but he pulled back puzzled. "You smell like smoke."

"You weren't listening in through Nightwing?"

"Gordon elected to keep me distracted himself. What happened?"

She breathed deeply as she let him go. "Better bring the other two in here so I only have to give one statement."

Bruce nodded and opened the door. "Selina's ready to talk."

Gordon and Nightwing followed him inside. The Commissioner looked more relaxed with the coffee mug in his hands. "Are you sure you're up to this, Mrs. Wayne?"

"I'd rather get the details out while they're still fresh. You already figured out the lunch meeting was a ruse to get me out of the office?"

Bruce pulled the sheet over her legs. "We saw the security footage. The man in green is the Riddler?"

"He never gave me a name. He drugged me and never let me see him when I woke up cuffed to a chair with blinding light in my face."

Bruce pressed his lips together as he turned to Nightwing. "He dressed the same as the security footage when I saw him," Nightwing said.

"Wait for your turn." Bruce opened one of the utility belt's compartments and took out a set of lockpicks. He went around the hospital bed and opened the storage drawers. "Did he talk to you, Selina?"

"Oh God, does he love to talk. He wanted Catwoman to tell him who Batman was. He wanted to kidnap you to make me tell him that."

"We got that from his riddles," Gordon said.

"Riddles? He sent riddles before his crime?" Selina looked at all the men silently daring them to end the joke right now.

"He's consistent with his theme so far." Bruce pulled on a set of latex gloves and turned her left arm so he could pick the handcuff.

"Tell us exactly what he said to you, best you can remember," Gordon said.

"He said he had a fetal Doppler to check the baby's heartbeat and it was normal. Since my shirt was tucked over my belly and ultrasound gel was all over my skin, I believe he did that." Bruce paused to squeeze her hand. Selina closed her eyes to help her remember. "Educated, but General American accent nothing distinctive to Gotham, but he said our elected officials, so he's lived here long enough to consider Gotham home from somewhere else or he polished up his accent. He knows I'm Catwoman. He knew what Cadmus changed from my original identity. I denied it with every cover story we came up with, but he didn't buy any of them. I'm Catwoman, Bane had me locked up with Batman, Batman must be the baby's father, and you can't tell him any different." She opened her eyes.

"But he never made the connection?" Gordon gestured to Bruce.

"Batman is dead, so no, it never occurred to him. So smart and so stupid at the same time."

The handcuffs fell onto the mattress and Bruce passed them to Nightwing. "Dust them for prints." He uncovered her left ankle. "You're having Batman's baby so you must know Batman's identity."

"He's been trying to figure it out for eight years. Our conversation ended after I pointed out that he couldn't verify anything I told him and he threatened to kidnap you or Stephanie to make me talk. He left the room, a walk-in freezer, after that and I didn't see anyone until Nightwing opened the door."

Gordon took out a small notebook and started writing. "Did he let anything slip that could identify him?"

"Access to my records and Roger Cly's. He connected us both back to Willowwood. When he complained about working on Batman's identity for eight years, he made it sound like someone challenged him to do it. He watched our interview on _Gotham Tonight_."

"Who in the city didn't?" Bruce recovered her left foot as he handed the cuffs to Nightwing and moved to her right foot. "Six weeks ago he figured out you were Catwoman and left a rhyming riddle about it on the Tumbler."

"I made the wrong call on that, Selina. I'm sorry." Nightwing's regret leaked out from under his mask.

"You said something about rumors," Bruce said.

"Bane's Army in Blackgate," Gordon grumbled.

Nightwing sighed as he bagged the first pair of handcuffs. "Bane had Batman and Catwoman locked up is easy to trace. That's what the local members of Bane's Army were told if they asked about Batman stopping them. Bane squashed any speculation on your identities."

"Wasn't that nice of him," Selina said.

"The riddle was left on the Tumbler the night of the Evermonds raid. The police knew I was there and the police were also the only ones who talked about Catwoman being pregnant."

"How?" Selina demanded. "By my count, only nine people knew not counting myself and they are almost all ones who know who we really are, so who talked?"

"Jensen," Nightwing said as his shoulders slumped.

"The rookie who was trapped underground with us." Bruce handed Nightwing the cuffs from her right ankle.

"I thought I hid my morning sickness better than that," Selina said.

"It was downtime before the funerals. Somebody asked why Catwoman didn't help with rounding up the last of the Blackgate Boys. Jensen blurted out 'She probably didn't want to risk the baby.' Renee jumped on him first and explained how it's not polite to speculate on a woman's uterus especially after the woman kept you fed for three months. It was a beautiful headlock, but the damage was done." Nightwing lightly brushed the fingerprint powder on the metal handcuffs. "Riddler's poem put together you as Catwoman and hinted at your pregnancy, so I thought it was another cop who put things together."

"And you told me to visit less and the wedding stuff made a perfect excuse." Selina frowned. "You don't think it's a cop now, why?"

"The stunt at Cartier's." Nightwing pulled the hospital bed tray he worked on out of Bruce's way. "Something like that will bring the Feds back saying we can't take care of Gotham and no cop wants that."

"The new Mayor shut it down," Gordon said. "So we don't have that to worry about unless this Riddler unlocks Blackgate."

Bruce looked up from her right wrist. "That's not funny, Jim."

"Not laughing, Bruce."

"Confused here." Selina raised her left hand. "I know you investigated Cartier's, but what does that vandalism have to do with the Riddler?"

"It started off his scavenger hunt across Gotham with riddles that led to Harriet Allnut's body," Nightwing explained. "He hid the riddle for you to go to Willowwood to rescue Bruce at that crime scene."

"He was upset that you hadn't shown up at the restaurant." Bruce glanced at Selina. "He took me to keep his hard work from going to waste."

"Can't have that, can we?" Bruce jabbed the probe further into the lock.

"Bruce figured out the answer to the last riddle and I went to Willowwood. It was open when I arrived. There were two heat signatures and I went up after the smaller one. The perp met me on the second floor's landing. He dressed like the man in the security footage, wore a purple mask under the green hat, and called himself the Riddler. He told me I had to catch him to find Selina and ran into a room behind him. I chased him into an electrified maze that filled the second and third floors. I thought I found a way around the maze once I reached the third floor but he booby trapped it and I fell down a chute to the basement laundry room. Selina was secured inside the walk-in freezer next door and a maze filled the rest of the basement. We tried to go out a staircase to the first floor, but I missed the booby trap on it and set the building on fire. Selina told me how to disconnect the electric maze and then we were able to cut our way through and get out using the basement exit."

Bruce jerked the picks out of the lock as he looked at her and turned to Nightwing. Selina squeezed his hand. "It's okay, neither one of us got singed. The Riddler probably killed Harriet, but I don't think he wanted to kill us. It was too easy to get away."

Bruce didn't say anything as he focused on the handcuff again.

"I know he got away because he left a rhyme on the Tumbler," Nightwing frowned. "Can we put a Taser auto theft device on it?"

"Or at least a camera if he keeps leaving notes on it." Gordon drained his coffee mug.

Bruce set the last handcuffs on the hospital tray, but the room door opened before he responded. Leslie held onto a clipboard as she put her hands on her hips. "Really? After everything she's been through today?"

"I let them in," Selina said. "They're family after all. What's the verdict?" Her hand found Bruce's.

Leslie consulted her clipboard. "Nothing's abnormal in the ultrasound or the tox screen. But let's not make a habit of taking whatever it was. Your little girl has a normal heartbeat and you should take it easy tomorrow. Rest and eat."

"We're having a girl?" Selina asked. The dizziness relief left in its wake made her glad she was sitting on the hospital bed. The baby kicked and she rubbed the spot.

"Did you want to be surprised?" Leslie asked.

Bruce shook his head. 

"She always curled up for the other ultrasounds." Selina squeezed Bruce's hand. "We both hate taking pictures."

"She didn't try to hide for these pictures." Leslie passed them a long strip of photo-paper with three sonogram images on it. Selina recognized the head on one of them.

"I feel outnumbered," Bruce said.

"Congratulations," Gordon said. "Now we have to see about catching this Riddler."

"I'll head back to Willowwood and see if there's anything left of his trail," Nightwing said.

Bruce turned to Gordon, "If you need a ride--"

Gordon held up his hand. "I already called for a car to meet me here."

"I thought he looked a little pale. How fast did you go?" Selina smirked.

Bruce squeezed her hand before turning to Nightwing. "Any fingerprints?"

Nightwing shook his head as he bagged the last cuffs for evidence.

"Take you wife home, Bruce, and at the speed limit. Gentlemen, shoo." Leslie pushed Gordon and Nightwing out of the room.

Bruce silently helped her get dressed in her smoky outfit. Selina was lost in a daydream of two little girls, blonde and brunette. The Lamborghini was much further down than she remembered and she needed Bruce's help to get into the passenger's seat. He drove sedately across Midtown. "Is there anything you want to add to your statement that you didn't want Gordon to know?"

"Of course, you're still focused on the case." She sighed as she looked at the street lights. They were close to Cartier's store. "Not really. I don't want to step on toes by profiling the Riddler for him."

"My toes are fine."

"He's smart, meticulous, look at how much he did just to put one person in the right place to kidnap. But despite being that smart, he makes a little mistake that nearly derails his whole plan."

"His grabbing you."

Selina shook her head. "No, that was smoothly recovering. The mistake was not verifying your schedule."

"I do keep that on a need to know basis."

"I could get it. This guy is smart enough to get it too."

Bruce nodded. "What were you thinking about?"

"Did you want a boy?" she asked.

"A matched set has its perks, but I don't have to have a boy."

"Good, 'cause today is not a good day to tell me we got to try again." Selina's smile dropped away. "On the subject of not good, what went wrong with my tracker?"

He glanced at her with clear confusion. "Your what?"

"Tracking device, you know your little compromise that had me buying jewelry for everyone but Blake and Gordon because theirs are implanted."

His face was undergoing the same shift it had early this morning when she volunteered for Foundation work. "We agreed to trust each other," he said. "And you didn't want one."

"I thought you took so long on the ring because you were fitting it in there." She looked down at the cat's eye and started laughing. "We can't tell Alfred. I only got him to agree to the cufflinks because I was covered with one."

His right hand let go of the steering wheel and drew her hand to his lips. "Mrs. Wayne, I will take you to Cartier and buy you jewelry to hide tracking devices for every occasion you can think of." He kissed the back of her hand.

"Do they have that much in stock yet?"

"We'll make them design something unique for you to wear everywhere. In the meantime, no, we don't tell Alfred."

The butler met them in the kitchen still dressed in his black cardigan. "Dr. Thompkins called with the medical instructions. Shall I bring a tray up to your room?"

"Only if it's no trouble." Selina glanced at the clock, realizing how early Alfred's day must have started and with the wedding the day before.

"No trouble, Missus Wayne. I saved your portions of supper; won't take any time to reheat. And maybe you'll get Master Wayne to actually eat his."

"I eat when I'm hungry," Bruce said as he held the rear stair door open for Selina.

Alfred shook his head. "I did tell Miss Jen what was going on and advised her to go to bed. I doubt she's asleep."

"She won't be." Selina leaned on Bruce as they went up the stairs. "All I really want is a shower."

"You'll get a shower and supper." Bruce tightened his arm around her back.

"You have met my sister, haven't you?"

Jen wore her Loony Tunes flannel pajamas as she paced the bedroom hallway. Her new robe flapped behind her as she ran down the stairs to meet them. "Kidnapped? Are you joking? Is this some kinky game since you didn't get a honeymoon, like role-playing abduction? You were really kidnapped?"

Selina pushed Bruce to keep walking up the stairs. His normal politeness would trap them on the stairs all night. "Don't be so melodramatic."

Jen waved her arms. "Hello! Kidnapped! Nobody gets the drop on you."

"I made the classic blunder I'm always telling you not to make."

"Never go against a Sicilian when death is on the line?"

Selina glared at Jen. "Being unaware of your surroundings. I was concentrating on Foundation business." They reached the third floor.

"But you always fight off the bad guys." Jen's whimper had an undercurrent of fear.

"She's pregnant," Bruce said. "How much fighting do you think she can do now?"

"Selina has always been the fighter. Do we need the secret service now?" Jen hugged herself.

"We don't qualify for them," Bruce said, "but we can hire a security team."

"We don't need to hire a security team." Selina's eye roll didn't stop her from hurrying to their bedroom door.

Jen kept pace. "Why not? Did the police lock him up?"

"Not yet."

Her sister skidded to a stop and threw her hands on her hips. "You can't beat up bad guys; I can't beat up bad guys. Who are you counting on, Alfred?"

"Don't count Alfred out." Bruce opened their bedroom door.

Jen followed Selina inside. Selina sighed. "Stop freaking out, will you?" She sat at the breakfast table. "He wanted information on Batman, not money out of Bruce."

The younger woman turned like a dancer and stomped her foot. "He's dead and still brings you grief!" Bruce flinched but hid it by loosening his tie. Jen stomped her foot again. "Are trained mercenaries gonna break in next?"

Bruce stiffened before he stripped off his suit jacket and headed to the dressing room.

"That's enough," Selina said. "I'm fine and the baby's fine. And this guy's ego won't let him hire mercenaries."

"Is it a mask thing? They assume because you wear a mask and Batman wore a mask, you must be BFFs? Or did the bad guys get some details about you and Bats that I didn't get?"

Stephanie ran into the room and straight to Selina. Her pendent bounced against the cartoon character on her nightgown. "What bad guy? What going on?" She hugged Selina's leg.

"It's okay. Everything's okay." Selina petted her blonde hair.

"Aunt Jen said bad guys and breaking in. Bad men were at work?" Stephanie squeezed harder.

Jen slapped her hand over her mouth. "Now you shut up," Selina said. She reached as far as could to pet Stephanie's back. "Aunt Jen didn't mean to wake you up."

Bruce returned, having discarded his jacket and tie. He pulled his chair next to Selina's other side before setting Stephanie on the arm rests between them. Stephanie balanced against Selina. "A bad man tricked Selina into a trap, but Nightwing got her out."

Stephanie wrapped her arms around Selina's neck. "He didn't hurt me, just locked me up. And nobody is crazy enough to break in here." Selina hugged her.

"You sure about that?" Jen hugged herself again.

"I didn't go to the Harvey Dent Day party because I like wearing an apron."

"But she looked beautiful in it," Bruce said to Stephanie.

The little girl pulled back to look at Selina. "But Aunt Jen is mad at Batman. You love Batman."

"Yes, I love Batman. Everyone in the city loves Batman. Aunt Jen is just scared of bad people."

"Yes, I am," Jen said. "I'm not mad at Batman."

Alfred arrived with a tray of food at the perfect moment for a distraction. "Well, I did put Miss Stephanie to bed on time."

"She heard my big mouth." Jen tied her robe around her waist. "Are you sure you're alright?" she asked Selina.

"Leslie said me and the baby are both fine. I just need to take it easy tomorrow. Now go get some sleep, college girl." Jen hugged her and then vamoosed. Selina untangled her arm from around Stephanie and accepted her plate of roast beef and vegetables.

"So bed rest tomorrow?" Alfred asked.

"I figured downstairs on a couch and have my new personal assistant work from here. Unless she's in cahoots with the Riddler?"

Bruce handed Stephanie his roll and shook his head. "The appointment was set up on Harriet's home computer while she was at the reception or in transit. Ms. Bai is clear. But nothing is that pressing, take the day off."

"Everyone has been asking for money and the director has to approve new expenditures."

"Who needs approval?"

She let him wait as she chewed. "Sorry, honey, I left the paperwork at the office."

"Of course you did."

"You need a briefcase," Stephanie said around her full mouth.

They ate enough to please Alfred and Bruce told him to go to bed when Selina retreated to the master suite's bathroom. Bruce had told her that he had rebuilt the Manor according to the original plans as much as possible, so she wondered which of his ancestors had wanted a Roman bath in the house. She bypassed the sunken marble tub big enough for half a dozen people and went to the marble and glass shower between the wall and the long double vanity. The shower could probably fit half a dozen people too, but some of the space was taken up by a built in bench. She approved of it right now. It was so much easier to get clean when she could get off her swollen feet.

She blow-dried her smoke-free hair and wrapped her robe around her nightgown. Bruce had changed into his pajamas and sat on the bed reading a Dr. Seuss book to Stephanie. "She wants to sleep with us tonight," he said.

"Okay, I'm ready for bed too."

Stephanie got up on the pillows while Selina and Bruce pulled down the bedcovers. She tugged at her cat pendent. "Here, Mommy, you need the button."

Selina's breathing almost stopped. "Mommy?"

"I'm not supposed to call you mommy?" Stephanie's blue eyes widened.

"Yes, you can call me mommy." Selina sat on the bed and hugged her. Stephanie pulled off her pendent and pushed it towards Selina's neck. "No, sweetie, that's yours. Daddy has one for me." She helped Stephanie put the pendent on the nightstand.

"You need to get her a briefcase too, Daddy." Stephanie burrowed against Selina as they lay down.

"It's on my list." Bruce wrapped his arms around them both as he spooned behind Selina.

"If you want to help Nightwing investigate--" A yawn cut Selina off.

"Later." He kissed the base of her neck. "Right now I want to hold all my girls."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** I hate to do this, but I have to shift to a two week schedule on the chapters. It was last Wednesday when I finished the rough draft of this chapter and circumstances meant I didn't finish typing it until Sunday (a car accident right outside my front door Friday night, not involving me but I had to help). I really hate to declare this because I always pride myself on a dependable update schedule except for power outages due to hurricanes. But the buffer of rough draft I had is gone and it looks like it takes me a week to write the rough draft and a week to make it publishable. I hate to change the time frame, but I'd hate not give you the quality you are expecting.
> 
>  


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 62

Bruce considered himself critically as he brushed his teeth. The circles under his eyes were nominal. Nobody should notice or comment on how exhausted he looked. He probably got more rest than he normally did after hours of adrenalized worry. He had lain in the bed holding Selina and Stephanie until they slept. Then he went down and helped Nightwing put his report into the computer. He studied what little evidence they had while Blake changed and then they went to bed.

That was when he finally dozed off only to wake up from the bottom of the well swarmed with green bats. He spat out his toothpaste. _My subconscious can learn a new trick._

He reflected on what they knew about the Riddler as he dressed. Nightmares and little sleep hadn't given him any new insights. He was buttoning his shirt when he heard the breakfast tray land on the table.

"Morning, Alfred," Selina said with a yawn.

"Good morning, Missus Selina. Did Master Wayne go downstairs?"

"Wouldn't you have seen him?"

"Not if he went further downstairs," Alfred said darkly.

Bruce left the dressing room as he adjusted his cuffs. "I'm right here, Alfred." He picked up his green juice glass and drained it.

Alfred was not fooled, but decided to let it go. "Have plans changed overnight?"

"Mine haven't." Selina rolled out of bed from Bruce's side while Stephanie pulled the covers over her head.

"I have to go in for the meeting with R&D, but I should be back by mid-afternoon. Can you call Ms. Bai and tell her to bring whatever Selina needs to work on here?"

"Certainly, sir."

Selina moved her plate from the tray to the table. "The woman was a mess yesterday with her old boss murdered and her new boss Mrs. Bruce Wayne. And now you have Alfred calling instead of me. I'm going to spend half the day calming her down."

"Do you want a new assistant?" Bruce moved his chair to its accustomed spot.

"I just told her she wasn't going to lose her job. If she freaks out too badly, Alfred will know what to do. What's so important at R&D to keep you from hovering all day?"

"Science fair." Selina raised her eyebrows. "Okay, it's seeing which project should be green-lit for the next phase, but they always act like their grades depend on the presentation so I call it science fair."

Stephanie slid out of the bed. "Potty."

"This way, sweetie." Selina got up and ushered her through the dressing room.

Bruce made up his mind about what hadn't even become a full option in his mind while they were gone. He moved the chair from the window to the table for Stephanie. "I need to show you something before I go. Dress in non-skid shoes."

"You know how to set off my curiosity." She poured Stephanie's cereal.

They finished breakfast and dressing, and sent Stephanie to tell Alfred what kind of cookies she wanted with tea. Bruce led the way to the parlor beyond East Drawing Room. Alfred had cleaned up his depression nests for reading and astronomy and had the cabinet he always used for target practice repaired. Selina looked at the uncovered paintings on the wall above the row of floor lamps. "You have some beautiful pieces that you never unwrapped before."

"We have, but that's not what I came in here for." He continued to the sideboard. Alfred had moved the photograph down to the study, but the safe and its contents were still inside it. He already had the long, black necklace box in hand when Selina crossed the room to him. "It's not a panic button, but it has a tracer." He set the box in her hands. "We'll still go to Cartier's for your permanent one." She opened the box and let the light shine on the strand of lustrous white globes. "I should have given them to you before now."

"Don't feel like you have to wait for a special occasion on my account." She closed the box and slipped it into her pocket. "Now will you stop thinking that it's your fault?"

Bruce grimaced. "I'm not responsible for this Riddler's actions, but I will keep my family safe."

"I wish my mistake didn't bring all this up for you."

He didn't bother retorting that the evening news was enough to bring all this up for him. "I would have rushed to the appointment too."

She shook her head. "I got complacent and it made me sloppy. That won't happen again. And if the Riddler is stupid enough to come after me and mine again after he's made me mad," she closed in on him and he remembered how she dropped the naïve maid act. Her hand cupped his jaw, "You know how sharp my claws are."

The tightness in his core that had become ever present since yesterday afternoon opened a miniscule degree. "Then we better find him before you have to use them." He took her hand and held it all the way down to the study. They walked to the piano and he slowly played the three keys. The bookcase door swung into the room.

"Kudos to your builder," Selina said. "I never noticed."

He set his thumb on the scanner for the elevator. "You were looking for a secret passage?"

"That was one of the few rooms not covered in dust cloths, so I was studying it, trying to figure you out." She brushed against him as she stepped into the elevator.

"Even if you got the door open, the elevator and cave need recognized thumbprints and retina scans."

"You do love biometric locks, wait, cave?" The elevator door closed behind them. 

"I told you how I fell down the old well in the greenhouse, but I left out how it disturbed a group of bats. I still dream about that." He shook his head. "Years later, when I was looking for a symbol to galvanize Gotham, a bat entered the Manor. I went down the well again and found the cave. Alfred and I discovered that my great-great-grandfather used the foundations of the house and installed a cage elevator for the Underground Railroad. We updated all of it when we rebuilt the Manor."

The elevator came to a stop and the door slid open. They walked down the brick tunnel. It opened onto the ledge around the foundation arches. The two finished cubes were up, and the one closest to the waterfall entrance had the Tumbler parked on it. To the right further down the old river bed, a larger cube was in the scaffolding stage of construction. Selina stepped closer to the edge and Bruce followed her. His proximity opened the rock wall on the right and the computer terminal slid out to meet them.

"And I thought the bunker was impressive." She turned and looked at everything again. "The bats are still here?"

"They are as stubborn as I am. No one has found this place. Alfred and Blake are set up as users already, but you should be too. Just in case." He sat in the computer chair and booted up the users registry.

She stood behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. "This is the downstairs Alfred was talking about."

"In his defense, I have always been here when he doesn't find me in bed. You can get out through the waterfall, but it's a jump the Tumbler can make. The ladder over there," he pointed to the other end of the foundation arches, "leads up to the greenhouse in the formal garden. We need another exit with a street legal, off-road capable vehicle hiding in it."

"So you aren't building that for a Hummer?" She pointed to the newest cube.

"No, that's for the new Bat. Lucius wants to work on it and Applied Sciences is still being repaired."

"How do you get out to them, swim?"

"The gangplanks come up when authorized users approach them. Put your thumb on this." He held up a digital scanner.

She complied. "So what's back there?" She pointed down the old river bed that disappeared into the darkness.

"The rest of the cave system. Look in here." He pointed to the webcam built into the Plexiglas display. She shifted and let the camera image her eye. "I thought about exploring the rest of it, but never got around to it," he added.

Selina stepped back from the computer. "So we need a secret not Bat-vehicle and a new secret garage attached to the Batcave as an escape route for when mercenaries invade."

He looked up at her. "I plan for every eventuality. And the Manor has been invaded before. Maybe the next time they won't bother to wait for a social event so they can eat the hors d'oeuvres before attacking."

"It needs to be out of the way of the normal crime fighting routine. And we better save the rest of the tour for later or you're going to keep the science fair waiting."

They got into the elevator using Selina's thumbprint. "I do believe you about the Riddler's ego," Bruce said as they ascended.

"I know you do. You've already put it on your profile on the man." She smirked as the elevator opened up and he pushed open the bookcase door. The study was still empty. She pressed the bookcase door after it closed testing its strength. "Do you want me to work in here today?"

"Yes," he answered too quickly. She leaned her back against the bookcase door and he continued, "I know he won't break in here while I'm gone. It's just--"

"It will make you feel better," Selina interrupted. "Just know that I expect you to be creative tonight in making me feel better."

The tension that she would fight him because his paranoid ass was showing unraveled like it had been cut. He leaned closer and cupper the back of her neck. "I will." His husky voice dropped further. "You know all my secrets now."

"I love you too, Bruce." Her arms reached around his neck and pulled him closer. Her lips captured his.

He was jolted back to their first time in this room and how their barriers made even a kiss impossible. And now he had just shown her the cave. His hand tangled into her hair. Her fingernails pricked his scalp. He groaned into her mouth.

"I found them!" Stephanie yelled at the door. They jerked apart. "Alfred says you're gonna be late and Aunt Jen needs a ride," Stephanie said at a lower volume before she turned to the spears in the urn next to the door. "What's this?"

Selina swiped the lipstick off his lips with her thumb. "Those are sharp, don't touch."

"Okay, I'm going." He released Selina reluctantly. "And that's heavy." He told Stephanie as she looked at her reflection on the gilded bust on the bottom shelf. She darted and hugged his legs. "Be good for your mommy and Alfred."

"I will." She released him and went back to the decorative items on the shelves.

* * *

Alfred finally reached Ms. Yin Bai. The executive assistant controlled her fluster. "I'm not exactly sure what Mrs. Wayne was working on yesterday, Mr. Pennyworth. And then that rude waiter at the Ocelot. She didn't have an accident, did she?"

"No, there wasn't an accident," Alfred soothed. "Bring a copy of the current financials along with the paperwork. Money is at the root of nearly all ills."

Ms. Bai promised to bring the necessary paperwork as soon as she got it from the office and they hung up as the doorbell rang. He frowned as he headed to the main door. Who would be arriving now?

A black-haired boy stopped stretching for the doorbell when the door opened. His blue eyes stared up at Alfred. "Hello, I'm Mr. Timothy Drake."

"Alfred Pennyworth." He saw the dust of a retreating automobile down the drive. Perhaps he should have put the Manor on lock down again this morning. "How can I help you, Master Timothy?"

"I'm here to play with Stephanie."

"I was not aware of any such arrangement."

"It was a surprise to me too."

"And they just left you here."

Timothy turned and looked down the drive. "Mom had to go to the office and I've lost another nanny."

The voice was so resigned for one so young. Alfred remembered that tone coming from a young boy who wondered why surgery was more important than him. "Come along, Master Timothy. You are lucky the ladies of Wayne Manor are home, otherwise you would have to spend the day with me."

Missus Selina and Miss Stephanie were still in the study, gathered around the antique globe bar on a marble-topped table. "Gotham is way up here." Selina pointed to the location on the globe while the little girl stood on the piano bench and leaned closer.

"Mrs. Wayne, Miss Stephanie, may I introduce Mr. Timothy Drake? He's here to play with Miss Stephanie."

The boy stopped beside Alfred. "I've lost another nanny."

"Another nanny?" Selina smiled. "If you've lost more than one maybe you should put them on a leash."

Timothy grinned. "It sounds like we forgot to pack her, but Mom and Dad said it's more polite than saying they were fired."

"Better keep saying it then. Where is your dad?"

"Out of town on business," he sighed. "He goes there a lot. And Mom had to go to work at the office."

Selina turned to Stephanie. "Are you okay with playing with Timothy?"

Stephanie climbed off the piano bench and marched to the boy. "Do you think I'm a public stunt?"

"No?" the confused boy answered.

She grinned. "Good, he can stay. My room is this way." She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the study.

Selina grimaced. "How are we supposed to watch them and work?"

"Master Wayne put the intercom system on the Manor's network." Alfred pulled one of the laptops out of the desk drawer. "You'll be able to listen to them like a baby monitor."

"He thought of that, but not an elevator in the main house." Selina joined him at the desk. "Timmy got dumped on our doorstep?"

"Indeed, the car was already out of sight by the time I reached the door." He shook his head. "Will you be working in here?"

"I promised Bruce I would." She moved around the desk to its chair.

"In that case, let me find you a pillow. That chair was not designed with pregnancy in mind."

"None of them are," she muttered.

He had plenty of tasks to prevent hovering over the young woman, which he doubted Selina would appreciate very much. He set up the tea tray, so he only had to add boiling water after he ushered Ms. Bai into the study. He returned with the refreshments to find the visitor catching tears with a tissue and Selina offering her another one. "I should have gone with you! None of it seemed right. It wasn't like Ms. Allnut's appointments. You could have been killed!"

"He didn't want to kill me and everything is fine now." Selina looked at Alfred and mouthed "help." Then she pulled another tissue from the box. "Nightwing and the police are both after him now. It's fine."

He set the tea tray down and poured Ms. Bai a cup. "Now, now, Mrs. Wayne knew you were in no shape to go on a business meeting yesterday, which is why she didn't impose it on you, and the blackguard clearly counted on that as well. Cream? Sugar?" Ms. Bai hiccupped and took her tea. Selina helped herself to a scone. "Did you bring the financial statements? As a director, I feel that well, perhaps I inadvertently let Ms. Allnut falter."

"She always had nothing but good things to say about you, Mr. Pennyworth." Ms. Bai pulled the folder out of a small plastic file case. "Mr. Cooper ran it for me this morning."

"Near as I can tell from Ms. Allnut's notes," Selina said, "there's not enough money for everything Bruce wants done now. We need to fund raise."

"Oh, but we don't." Ms. Bai almost dropped her cup and saucer. "Mr. Wayne didn't create the Foundation to chase money with events."

Alfred frowned at the financial statement. Wayne Enterprises share price had improved since the Occupation, but it hadn't returned to the heights where the Foundation had done its best work.

"So Bruce hates fundraisers." Selina picked up her tea cup. "That makes our first two dates all kinds of interesting. Alfred, what does Bruce have against fundraisers?"

He passed the financial statement to her. "I don't know if it's my place to spoil Master Wayne's rant on the subject. He has been refining it for years."

"I can't call him for it while he's meeting with R&D." She opened the folder. "And right now the Foundation barely has money for its ongoing obligations."

Ms. Bai set down her cup. "I can have accounting go back over the numbers."

"I believe the numbers and the problem is income."

"Master Wayne was disillusioned by the typical fundraising event that funds itself before its cause and is really given as a bolstering to the ego of the host."

"I'm already looking forward to hearing Bruce's version. So how was the Harvey Dent Day soiree different?"

"The costs of the event were covered by the Manor's account. The Foundation donated equal amounts to the city's Legal Aid clinics and a law school scholarship in honor of Rachel Dawes."

"And encouraged party guests to do the same," Selina added. "So pledge drives are for the Red Cross and United Way, not for the Wayne Foundation. Yin, have we got any numbers on what they're getting for Gotham and how it's being spent?"

Ms. Bai dived into her plastic file case again and Alfred retreated to the kitchen to finish lunch preparations.

* * *

The day turned out more productive than Selina had feared. Once Alfred's tea had done its magic, Yin Bai had settled and began compiling the data Selina needed to make decisions. Nothing for Foundation would be decided without Bruce's input, but she impishly paid off one artistic grant request out of her own bank account. It was one less thing to bring to Bruce's attention at least until the statue was installed, and she had to get Bruce's input on other issues. Yin left after lunch to pick up her children and to drop off Selina's check. Selina retreated upstairs to change her shoes. It was ridiculous how many body parts had to change to grow a baby.

Angry wailing protested across the hall. She stuffed her feet into slippers that were too small for them and threw open the door. The room Selina had only spent one night in was barely recognizable past Stephanie's toys and the day bed added to it. "What's going on?"

Both crying kids turned to the door pulling a purple mass of material between them. Timothy rubbed his head with his other hand. "She threw a brick at me!" He pointed to the extra-large red Lego brick on the rug.

"He yanked off my caped crusader's mask!" Stephanie yanked on the purple material. Timothy let it go.

"Are you bleeding?" Selina asked Timothy.

He looked at his hand. "No."

"Then you learned an important life lesson, Timmy. Don't go pulling masks off people wearing them. They don't like that." She turned to Stephanie and held her hand out for the material. "Were you hurt when Timmy took off your mask? Was anybody hurt?"

"No," Stephanie said grudgingly as she handed over the material.

"What are you supposed to use before fighting?"

"My words."

Selina nodded. "No more caped crusader game because you started the fight. Now if you don't want Timmy to go home and never come over again, you need to apologize."

Stephanie swiped her face with her hand. "Don't go home. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. Let's play pirates." The boy ran to the toy chest under the window and pulled out a foam cutlass.

"Okay."

Peace restored, Selina took the object of contention back to the master suite. It turned out to be a hooded cape with an eye mask built into the hood. She tossed it on the bed, found Bruce's slippers, and wore them downstairs.

Alfred met her on the stairs. "There you are, Missus Selina. Detective Montoya is here to see you. She's waiting in the study."

The detective stood in front of the desk and studied the bottom shelf that now held Bruce's photograph collection: the one of his parents with burnt edges, a portrait of Rachel Dawes to match the head shot of Harvey Dent, and a picture of Selina and Stephanie in their matching purple sweaters at the forefront. "Hello, Detective Montoya, I'm sorry I vanished on you yesterday." Selina sat on the sofa.

"I know it wasn't your idea." Montoya sat in the closest matching blue and gold chair. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine and the baby's fine; everybody wanted me to take it easy today. I'll probably go to the office tomorrow. Unless I need to go now because you have to arrest somebody."

Montoya shook her head. "Looks like this Riddler worked alone, or at least no one at the Foundation had anything to do with Harriet Allnut's murder or your kidnapping."

"Good, I'd rather not fire anyone right now. So how can I help you?"

"I read the statement you gave the Commissioner last night." Montoya opened the pleather portfolio she held. "It occurred to me that maybe the Riddler was so careful not to let you see him because you know him." She passed a photograph to Selina.

It was an eight-by-ten enlargement of security footage from the Ocelot. The man in the green coat and bowler hid behind Selina as he supported her. "Best shot you have?" Selina asked.

"Unfortunately."

"Sorry, but I don't think I'd recognize Bruce in a pose like that."

The door banged open behind Selina. "Hey, Selina, I need a research project," Jen said. "Alfred thought you might need another look at the Wayne Foundation numbers, oh hi, John's friend Renee."

Montoya blushed. "Hello, Miss Kyle."

"Did I interrupt Foundation business?"

Selina shook her head. "No, Detective Montoya is here about my kidnapping."

"Oh, you're a cop," Jen said as she leaned against the back of the sofa. "I always forget John was a cop." She glanced at the photograph as Selina handed it back to Montoya. "How did you get a picture of the Lucky Charms Guy?"

Montoya straightened out of her reach. "You recognize that man?"

"There can't be two idiots going around the city in that hat when it's not St. Paddy's Day."

"Has he been following you around Hudson's campus?" Selina asked.

"No, he scared Stephanie last month, when we found the Liberty Church. I was talking with the Reverend about weddings and Stephanie was focused on the plaque with the Wayne name on it. Next thing I know she's screaming at this guy dressed in green and diving under the church pews to get away from him."

"That's what we told her to do," Selina told Montoya.

"What did he do?" Montoya asked.

"Apologized for scaring her and left. We went back to the penthouse and she was okay. And then you guys brought home the scary child advocate lady."

"That explains why Bruce or I never heard about this."

Jen's mouth dropped open as she stared at Selina. "Oh my god, was he trying to kidnap Stephanie?"

Selina didn't answer Jen out loud, but her cold sinking stomach knew the answer was yes. After the way he harped on Stephanie being the key to figuring out she was Catwoman; it was obvious now. But again the Riddler missed a little detail, this time Stephanie's fear of strange men.

"You got a clear look at him?" Montoya leaned closer.

Jen nodded. "He didn't look like a nut but they never do and I wanted him gone from Stephanie, so staring contest that I won."

"Will you come with me to the police station and help us create a facial composite?"

"You know, I had hoped the first part of that question would be asked, but the police station is not my destination of choice." Jen blushed, Montoya reddened, and Selina realized there was no way to exit without drawing attention to her presence.

"By the time you finish, I'll be off shift. We could have dinner, if you'd like." Montoya's gaze fell to the rug.

"I'd like that a lot. Let me get my coat." Jen pushed off the sofa and trotted out the door.

Selina followed the pair to the Great Hall and made sure the door was closed behind them. Then she went looking for Blake and Bruce. They were holed up in a parlor near the kitchen and consulted a laptop on a spindly writing desk. "John Blake, did you set my sister up with a cop?"

He straightened. "I didn't set anyone up. I introduced Renee and Jen. If they hit it off, great, Renee dates less than I do and that's saying something."

"Is that why Montoya visited? To get your blessing?" Bruce leaned back in his chair.

"No, she brought a photo of the Riddler to see if I could identify him. It was from the Ocelot's security footage, so no. Then Jen barged in and recognized the outfit as the Lucky Charms Guy." Two confused male faces stared at her. "The one who scared Stephanie last month."

"Jen didn't give any details and Stephanie was okay when they got back." Blake crossed his arms. "The Riddler does dress like the Lucky Charms leprechaun."

"He tried to kidnap Stephanie." Bruce's flat voice didn't ask and his hazel eyes blazed.

"She foiled it by screaming and hiding under the church pews," Selina said.

"I'll have to change what self-defense I was going to start with," Bruce said.

"Having a face may help." Blake dropped his arms. "But the Riddler lies low until he has his plan ready to drop. Seeking him out when we don't know anything about him isn't an option." He grimaced. "This will be a waiting game until he makes a move."

Bruce nodded. "Agreed, as much as I hate it. We'll continue with our normal routines for the time being. And I'll check on the police headquarters renovation progress. Let's give the Riddler somewhere else to leave his clues."

"So I can go back to the office tomorrow?" Selina asked.

"As long as you don't leave the building alone."

Selina smirked down at him but Alfred's voice carried into the parlor before she came up with a witty retort. "What do you think you are doing?"

"We're pirates," Stephanie said. "We have to have treasure to bury."

"Gold, silver, and jewels," Timothy added.

"Not the silverware needed for supper," Alfred scolded.

"I'm more worried about how they planned on burying it," Selina said as she headed toward the dining room.

* * *

_The end of another day,_ Alfred sighed as he locked the back door. Master Timothy was retrieved by the Drakes' chauffeur before supper. Alfred left a word with the man that the family would be out for the rest of the week and passed along Emma's contact information as a reliable babysitter. Nothing against the polite and lonely boy, but Wayne Manor would not be turned into a daycare center. He turned the lights off in the hallway as he moved toward the front door. It was locked and everyone was abed except for Master Blake. Alfred hoped his patrol was uneventful.

A figure in white walked ahead of him in the next hall. "Missus Selina?"

She jumped as she whirled around to face him. "Don't scare me into labor, Alfred. Have you seen Bruce?"

"He didn't go to bed?"

"He had something to wrap up for Revitalize Gotham after supper and I haven't seen him since." She opened the study door. Bruce sprawled back in the desk chair. He jerked up and blinked at them. "Forgot you own more beds than people living here?" she teased.

"Sorry." He wiped his face as he stood. "Old habit."

"A bad habit," Alfred frowned. Bruce matched it.

"Let's not ruin a good day now. Do you need to stay up until Blake comes in?" Bruce shook his head and Selina held out her hand. "Then come up to bed with me?" she asked.

"That was inconsiderate of me; I'll do better." He wrapped his arm around her back. "Good night, Alfred."

"Good night, sir, madam." Alfred continued to frown as he shut off the lamps. They had finally completely moved into Wayne Manor with all the décor unwrapped and the dust cloths banished. But Bruce retreating to the cave and the study and letting himself fall asleep there brought up unsettling memories. He needed to be present for his family. Alfred snapped the stairs light off.


	30. Chapter Thirty

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 75

Bruce demonstrated the kick again. "Now you try."

Stephanie scrunched her face and copied the kick with a jerk. "I messed up."

"It takes practice, try again." She shifted her stance and brought her leg up higher. "Good, just like that. Keep practicing." He glanced at Blake.

The younger man sat cross-legged against the wall. He manipulated the lock pick with his mouth to open the handcuffs around his wrists. That was Selina's training method, so Bruce didn't interrupt him.

Alfred stopped in the gymnasium's door. "Master Wayne, phone call from the city planning committee."

"Practice tumbles, Stephanie, while I talk on the phone." The white gi clad girl rolled over the mat. Bruce took the cordless handset from Alfred. The phone call was short. "Can I came in this afternoon and sign the contract? Very well, see you at one o'clock." He ended the phone call and handed it back to Alfred. "Revitalize Gotham won the Gotham Stadium contract."

"Congratulations, sir."

"We have to cut practice short. Stephanie, stop please."

She rolled to sitting on the mat. "Already?"

"I have to go sign paperwork and Uncle John can't spot you on the balance beam."

"We still have to get ready for Miss Tara's arrival tonight," Alfred said.

"Okay," she said with a sigh.

"We'll do more tomorrow," Bruce said. "Tara will probably like the balance beam too. Go change out of your gi."

"Yes, Daddy." She ran past Alfred and into the west wing hall.

"And Master Blake?" Alfred nodded at the younger man.

"Selina took the keys with her."

"I see. I'll check on him when you leave." Alfred fell into step behind Bruce, but close enough to be side-by-side. "Easter is at the end of the month. Have you given any thoughts about celebrating?"

"Better ask Selina if she and Jen have any traditions they want to introduce to Stephanie." Bruce opened the door to the Great Hall.

"And what about reviving the traditional Wayne Manor Easter Egg Hunt?"

Bruce froze before he entered the side staircase entrance. It had been a mainstay event in his childhood that he refused to host and participate in after his parents' murder. "You want to open the Manor grounds to strangers while the Riddler is still at large?"

"We could limit the caterers to outdoor facilities for the event. Missus Selina upgraded the Manor security on top of your own safeguards. And the risks should be negligible if we don't advertise the event."

"Since when have we ever been able to not advertise an event we host?" Bruce folded his arms.

"We can limit it to invitation only and you can hire the security force that you wanted to surround the Manor with. After all, we have eight years of social inactivity to rectify, and it seems a shame that Miss Stephanie will miss her first Easter."

Bringing up the security team that Selina had pointed out was unnecessary was unfair. "Other things are more important than the children of snobs learning how to kiss up while hunting colored eggs." Bruce strode up the stairs.

His mood hadn't improved as he drove into the city. The Riddler hadn't left a clue for two weeks since Selina's kidnapping. She returned to work at the Wayne Enterprises, but only left the building with him, Blake, or Alfred. That still hadn't brought the Riddler out of hiding. Jen's facial composite that Blake agreed was the Riddler didn't spark any recognition for him or Selina. Bruce was still thinking about that when he called Jerry Cruncher. "Jerry, sorry to interrupt your day, but we won the Gotham Stadium bid."

The voice that came out of the Aventador's speakers was amused. "With as hard as we worked on that bid, I expected you to sound a little happier about winning."

"Sorry, I am thrilled. It's just Alfred wants another function for Easter."

"And you wanted a quiet Sunday with the family?"

"With everything that's going on, I don't want to open up the Manor to the whole city." Bruce drove the car onto the recently repaired Queens Bridge.

Jerry moved his phone further away from the buzzing power tool. "So I guess now is not the time to remind you we need to recognize all the hard work everyone's been doing."

"It's not, but I know we need to do it. I'll figure something out."

"And I'll save some hammering for you to work out your frustrations on," Jerry promised. They finished the phone call by the time Bruce reached Uptown. He composed himself better by the time he entered Wayne Enterprises and stopped on the Foundation floor with a friendly smile for everyone.

Selina looked up from her paperwork. "I knew you couldn't stay at home for a whole day."

"I have to go to City Hall, but I need to have lunch with you. Are you free?"

"Do we need to eat here or go down to the cafeteria?" She logged out of the computer.

"The cafeteria is fine."

Bruce picked up their meals while Selina found a secluded table near the waterfall wall. The cafeteria was on the first floor of the five-story atrium in the center of the building, two floors above the lobby. Originally the building had been designed and built to rent out the lower floors to other businesses. They hadn't found many tenants for the empty spaces after Wayne Enterprises bought it and moved in. Right now he was glad that strangers he hadn't vetted weren't coming and going. The waterfall also had the added bonus of thwarting eavesdropping.  
  


"So what's going on at City Hall?" Selina took her water from the tray.

"I have to get the contract for the Gotham Stadium." He set her plate down on the table before his. "And I don't look happier about that because Alfred wants to open the Manor for an Easter egg hunt."

"Something you had as a child?"

He nodded as he cut into his pork chop.

"Who would be on the guest list?"

"The same as our wedding reception only minus the people we'd actually want to see." She stabbed her salad with her fork and chewed while she looked at him. He sighed. "It's not safe to open the Manor and we should concentrate on an event to show Revitalize Gotham appreciation."

"Wayne Enterprises and the Foundation could use some appreciation too," she said. "Why can't we have it for their kids?"

"An Easter egg appreciation hunt?" Bruce's mouth tilted up wryly as he considered it. "I don't know if that would be enough children for the egg hunt. And the caterers are still a point of vulnerability."

"The caterers we can handle between you, me, and Blake." Selina waved that consideration aside. "Now what about inviting the St. Swithin's kids for it? I still feel bad that the only thing they got for Christmas was Catwoman telling them she saw Santa Claus."

He knew there was more to that story, but he didn't let wanting it distract him from the purpose of this conversation. "I need your help to put a stop to all this, not to enlarge the guest list."

"I thought the plan was to stick to normal routines to draw him out."

He grimaced. "This feels like I'm challenging him to hurt you or Stephanie."

"I see it as a way to finish social obligations through my last trimester and a couple of months so the baby isn't exposed to too many germy people. That should get us to the holiday season." She reached across the table for his hand. He stretched further so she didn't have to. She squeezed his fingers. "If the Riddler is stupid enough to invade the Manor, we'll let you punch him first."

* * *

Blake made sure Stephanie and Tara hadn't followed him and Selina into the study. "I need to talk to you about training."

She set her purse on the desk and turned to him with a smirk. "How long were you in the cuffs?"

"It took over an hour to pick with my mouth, fifteen minutes once I had a free hand."

"Have to keep practicing then."

"Not arguing with that. I see what you mean by how lock picking is based on touch, but it's dulled when I'm wearing the gloves. How much practice will it take before I can manipulate the tools in the gloves or should I yank them off first?"

Selina frowned thoughtfully. "Option B doesn't work at all and option A can last the rest of your life, so I'm tossing out option C. Bring me a spare glove and I'll see if it can be altered."

Blake blinked because that idea hadn't occurred to him.

She dug into her purse and waved at the secret door with her right hand. "Go get it before we forget or a kid shows up." He went down to the cave, found one, and returned to find her on her cell phone. "Hi Anita, this is Selina. I need some ideas for boys' Easter baskets."

He set the glove on the desk and wondered if Selina had immunity against the no-Bat-stuff-in-the-Manor rule he got from Bruce and Alfred. How did that work? Because Alfred's lecture was scary.

She slipped the glove onto her free hand and pursed her lips as she flexed it. "Oh, it's a charity thing for the kids at St. Swithin's. Between Stephanie and Jen, we got input for the girls, but I have no ideas for boys." She waved for Blake to leave the room. He shrugged and shut the study door behind him.

He headed down the hall with a vague idea of starting the afternoon sparring session early. Stephanie ran out of the television den and blocked his path. Her hands grabbed her hips. "Uncle John!"

"What did I do?"

"You have a fairy tale and you never told it to me!" She stomped her foot.

He looked into the den at Tara smirking as she leaned over the couch's arm. "You didn't tell her it isn't a good story?"

"You just need more practice," Tara said.

Stephanie grabbed his hand and dragged him into the den. "I want to hear it right now. Please," she tacked on as they reached the couch.

"It works better when you put the please in front of what you want." Blake sat on the middle of the couch. Tara moved next to Stephanie on the oversized cushioned ottoman in front of him. "Once upon a time, a kingdom was falling apart. An evil man, Duke Falcon, with lots of money, wanted to rule the kingdom, so he hired men to scare and to steal from the citizens of the kingdom. Everybody knew who caused the bad things, but they were too scared of being beat up or worse by Duke Falcon's men."

"The King is useless," Tara said to Stephanie. "What was the Princess doing?"

"Duke Falcon paid the King's knights to ignore what Falcon's men were doing, so the King couldn't fight back without his knights. The Princess left the castle every day to help the citizens who were hurt by Duke Falcon, but couldn't give them justice when no one would fight for her."

"What's her name?" Stephanie asked.

"Princess Rachel," Blake answered.

"Princess Rachel needs to learn how to fight," Stephanie said.

"She has magic," Tara added.

"That's later," Blake said. "So it looked like nobody in the kingdom could stop Duke Falcon's takeover. But one man decided he would. He put on black armor and a helmet that hid his face. He chose his battle carefully and attacked a group of Falcon's men. Falcon watched this new knight beat all the men he had. He ran, but the new knight caught him. And everyone in the city called the new knight the Dark Knight because they didn't know his name."

"Secret name," Stephanie said.

"Right. The King locked Duke Falcon in a dungeon, but Falcon still had people working for him. They sent word to a powerful sorcerer that Falcon needed his help. The sorcerer wanted to destroy the kingdom, so he pretended that he would help Falcon become king."

"Liar," Stephanie said.

"And Duke Falcon was stupid," Tara said.

"The sorcerer used Falcon's men to scatter parts of his magic spell all over the kingdom. They worked out of a tower in the most dangerous neighborhood of the kingdom. They didn't think anyone knew what they were up to, but the Dark Knight was watching them. He didn't know what the sorcerer had planned, but he did know Falcon's men were up to something bad. So he watched the tower to see what it was and that's when Robin found him."

"Robin?" Stephanie asked.

"Silly name for a boy," Tara said.

"Robin was a little boy who lived with his cousin and his cousin's wife because his parents were dead. They fought all the time and Robin stayed outside as much as possible to avoid the yelling. One rainy night, he went outside and found the Dark Knight watching Falcon's men."

Stephanie hugged her knees to her chest.

"The yelling must have been bad to go out in the rain," Tara said.

"It was," Blake said. "The Dark Knight gave Robin his fancy spyglass before battling Falcon's men. The sorcerer came to the kingdom soon after that fight and started casting his spell in Robin's neighborhood. A mist exploded out of the ground and everyone who breathed it saw monsters everywhere. But really the monsters were other people."

"The ones the magic didn't work on saw people." Tara bounced on the cushion.

"Who?" Stephanie asked.

"The Dark Knight, the Princess, and I forgot."

"One of the King's knights who was the Dark Knight's friend. Can I finish this?" The little girls pressed their lips together. Blake took a deep breath. "Princess Rachel came to the bad neighborhood because the sorcerer opened the dungeon there and let all the prisoners out, including Duke Falcon. She found Robin wandering the streets right before the mist exploded all over them. She used a magic spell to chase away a scarecrow monster on a fire-breathing horse."

"Horses don't breathe fire," Stephanie protested.

"That's what Robin saw when he got hit with the magic mist. But Princess Rachel didn't have any more spells so they had to run away from the other people-monsters. Robin kept telling her that the Dark Knight would save them."

"He's a hero," Tara said. "Of course, he's gonna save them."

"The Princess took the wrong alley shortcut and the people monsters surrounded her and Robin. The Dark Knight dropped down from the roof, grabbed them both, and pulled them up to the roof using a rope. He made sure they were safe and then ran after the sorcerer. The sorcerer climbed onto his dragon so he could cast his spell all over the kingdom. The Dark Knight caught the flying dragon with his rope, climbed up, and fought the sorcerer on its back high above the kingdom. While he kept the sorcerer distracted, the King' knight not affected by the magic mist shot an arrow at the dragon."

"Must have been a big arrow," Tara said.

"Huge. The dragon fell out of the sky. The Dark Knight jumped clear, but the sorcerer and the dragon blew up when they hit the ground. And that's how the kingdom was saved from Duke Falcon, the end." Blake stood.

"They didn't live happily ever after?" Stephanie's head tilted to the side.

"Not in this story." Blake moved around them to the shelves of movies. "What do you two want to watch?" He put their movie of choice on and escaped while it diverted their attention.

Bruce leaned against the wall beside the door. "And how did the Dark Knight jump clear of an exploding dragon?" He slipped his hands into his pants pockets with practiced nonchalance.

Blake's ears burned. "I'm really glad that haven't asked that because I don't want to explain the Dark Knight's magic flying cloak."

"It doesn't add much to the narrative." Bruce pushed off the wall and Blake fell into step as they went down the hall. "That story at least explains how you recognized me when my mask slipped."

"I told you the truth about that." The older man raised an eloquent eyebrow. Blake sighed. "Okay, so I left out how you also repeated something I heard Batman say on that roof: 'it's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me.' Steve became a firefighter following your advice. I wanted you to leave the Manor not burying you further in it." He knew he'd pay for saying that during sparring.

It was a few long seconds before Bruce spoke in a soft but serious tone. "I feel that I owe you an apology, John. Rachel was the one who instigated CPS into looking in your home life after the Narrows Riot. I was too busy with criminals. After she died, it never occurred to me to check into your situation."

"It's alright." They turned the corner and crossed the Great Hall to the west wing. "I don't know why the system left me with my cousin in the first place. And I don't regret my time at St. Swithin's."

Bruce nodded. "What happened to the telescoping binoculars?"

"Pawned for beer money."


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 89

Babs frowned at the trigonometry textbook. The library work for her major resulted in free study time with how many people came up to this special collection on the top floor of the library building. She had no complaints about this station because trigonometry needed the extra concentration that she wouldn't have working the front desk. _Easy math, that advisor's ass._ She jotted down her answer to the problem, and then checked the solution in the back of the book. It was wrong.

The door between the collection room lobby and the elevator hall opened. She stopped scowling as she looked up to tell the visitor which floor the book they wanted was on. The pregnant woman almost took a step back before smiling. "Barbara Gordon?"

"Mrs. Wayne, what are you, I mean, how can I help you?"

"Call me Selina. So you've got work study here?"

"Something like that. Were you looking for me?" Babs pushed her notebook into the textbook and closed it.

"No, I just need to hide for a bit while Alfred shops and Jen's in class. And I remembered this place has the only Wayne family records since the Manor burned down."

Babs blinked as her photographic memory recalled the mission statement she had read when she was assigned this station at the beginning of this semester. "Alan Wayne donated the documents and personal items so that the struggle for freedom would never be forgotten and dedicated the collection to the memory of his uncle Joshua Thomas Wayne." She broke off the recall there and pointed to the family portrait hanging on the left wall. "That's Joshua there with his brother and sister."

Selina walked over and gazed up at the stiff Victorian members of the family she had married into. "Joshua Wayne." The younger man with short black hair and moustache stood on the left behind the seated man. "Judge Solomon Wayne." The oldest sibling sat in a chair at the center of the portrait. Dark brown hair receded from his high forehead and came down his heavy jowls in muttonchops. "And Helena Wayne." The black haired woman was younger than the two men and her visible hand curled into a fist against the skirt of her green dress. "She wore the necklace for this portrait." Selina smirked before turning to the portrait-sized list of names. "Everyone they conducted on the Underground Railroad?"

"Yes," Babs answered. "The Judge wrote a memoir about it. The collection has one of the few copies left."

Selina turned from the framed parchment and faced Babs again. "What is in this collection and who is allowed to access it?"

Babs held out the brochure explaining the collection. "The short list: all of Judge Wayne's records on the Underground Railroad, his diary, some personal family items especially stuff that belonged to Joshua, original plans for the Manor house, oh the original land grant from the state to Darius Wayne, and other odds and ends. Anyone can see anything as long as they follow the protocols to preserve the items."

"So has the public in the form of a Caucasian male in his forties with brown hair who likes to wear a lot of green accessed anything lately?"

"That is awfully specific." Babs' eyebrows knitted together.

Selina grinned as she leaned her arm on the top of the counter. "It is, isn't it? What do you think of that?"

Babs felt line the older woman had laid out a test. She always aced a test, no matter what kind. "Sounds like you've had some kind of trouble with that guy, but you don't know his identity because your question would be how to restrict access to the collection. I haven't seen your stalker, but the only time people come up here is when schools make them and the city missed Black History Month this year." Selina's grin shifted to an appraising smirk. "And this is when you turn me into Watson and tell me how wrong I am."

"All that you got wrong is he's my kidnapper, but I'm certain that casing a target for that is the same as stalking so terminology." Babs' jaw fell as Selina waved away the technicality. "I'm fine, but this asshole targeted Stephanie and threatened Bruce. Your father has gone to so much trouble to keep it out of the press, so don't you go blabbing."

Babs snapped her jaw shut before speaking. "I don't know any reporters."

"I'm sure they're lovely people individually, but as a profession, they give my husband fits." Selina held out her phone and it displayed a facial composite put together with the FACES program. Babs didn't recognize the sharply pointed features of the male face. "Haven't seen him?" Selina asked.

"He hasn't accidentally hit this floor when he wanted the one below," Babs said. "But we have to log in who has accessed the collection." She turned to the computer. "Yesterday, Dr. Fairbairn came in. She's working on a novel set during the Civil War. The librarian on staff told me."

Selina frowned. "I don't think he's the type to have a partner he'd trust with just research."

"Okay, the groups that show up during Black History Month stay in the lobby and look at the displays that are set up. The next visitor that came here alone is another woman back in 2008, Miranda Tate." Babs looked up at Selina's clenched face. "Wasn't she part of Bane's Army?"

"Yes," Selina growled out. The hair on Babs' neck nearly stood at the word. "Who else?"

Babs clicked down the list. "2003, Ted Maurer looked at the Manor plans. How far do you want to go back?"

"That's probably far enough." Selina took a deep breath. "And I could have done without learning that damn bitch came here."

"Sorry," Babs said. Then a possible bright side occurred to her. "But really what useful information can this kidnapper find in stuff from the Civil War?"

Selina's visible anger simmered down to a level that didn't bother Babs. "I don't know. This was a vulnerable spot connected to Bruce. I'll need a printout of that list of visitors and I'll take my own look at the Manor's plans, whatever Miranda Tate looked at, and the Judge's diary."

"Nobody has looked at that in two decades."

Selina nodded. "Good, but that's for me. I'm curious about what he said about his sister."

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 99

The Saturday before Easter Sunday dawned warm and sunny. Bruce stepped onto the east wing's outdoor staircase. The graveled area below where the stage had been set up for the Dent Day Celebration was now filled with plastic folding tables and chairs. Two of the catering staff covered the tables with pastel colored tablecloths and secured them against the wind. Two long tents were erected along the path past the fountain. Beyond the food tents, the path turned into a carnival with air-filed structures to jump in and slide on, a portable rock wall, a throwing game with basketball hoops, a pony carousel, and a petting zoo. The tennis courts at the end of the path were open, but he doubted the invited children would make use of them. Blake had suggested converting one of them into a basketball court, but there hadn't been time to implement that before the event.

Alfred's feet crunched on the gravel as he joined Bruce's inspection. "Everything is right on schedule, Master Wayne. Do try to enjoy yourself today."

"No one has tried to go where they are not supposed to be?"

"No one has. The interior of the Manor aside from the restrooms is locked and your missus and daughter are waiting on the front steps to greet your guests."

Bruce circled the Manor on the gravel path, leaving Alfred behind to supervise. Selina and Stephanie were not alone; Jen sat on the steps and Blake carried one of the metal patio chairs around the west wing.

Selina was already rubbing her lower back. He moved behind her and massaged the spot she couldn't reach. "Everything ready over there?" she asked after she sighed.

"Finishing touches. Please take it easy today."

"I will enjoy the table while you chase after Stephanie." She settled into the chair Blake set down.

Stephanie pressed up against Selina's legs. "I want to see the stuff over there."

"After the children from St. Swithin's get here," Bruce explained.

Blake pressed his fingers over the security ear piece in his ear. "Mr. Fox and his guests and the Crushers are on their way in and the gate detail sees the bus coming."

Their group fell silent as the first two cars were directed to their parking spots on the lawn. Fox held the hand of a little girl who squeezed the hand of her little brother. Their skin was darker than Lucius' and they stared up at the Manor and down at the grass in wide-eyed amazement. "Harper, Cullen, I'd like you to meet our hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Wayne and their daughter Stephanie. This is Harper Row and her brother Cullen."

Bruce crouched to be closer to them. "Pleased to meet you. How do you like your cubicle in R &D?"

Harper's lips parted in a smile. "I've got room for all my projects. And it has my name on it."

"And nobody breaks stuff there," Cullen added before dodging behind his older sister.

"That's true," Fox said. "If she makes all A's on her next report card, we're going to build a solar-powered model race car."

"I'm sure she'll do just fine," Selina said.

Stephanie strode forward. "Hi, why is your hair purple?"

Harper scowled. "They made Cullen get a haircut and he didn't want it."

"Stephanie, that wasn't nice," Bruce pulled his daughter to his side. "You shouldn't ask a personal question when you first meet someone."

"But I like purple."

"Then you say that."

Stephanie turned back to the girl with the purple, asymmetrical haircut. "I like your purple hair. Hi Jerry!"

Bruce stood as Stephanie darted to hug Young Jerry. "Glad you could make it."

The older Jerry Crusher shook his hand. "Wouldn't miss it, Bruce. Hello, Selina, Mr. Fox."

"Morning, Mr. Crusher, Mrs. Crusher."

"We didn't know you are a grandfather," Anita said.

Fox smiled. "I've been adopted. Harper, Cullen, this is Mr. and Mrs. Crusher and their son Jerry."

The first children off the bus reached their group and their shocked awe at the size of the Manor was audible. Selina pushed out of the chair. "There's Alfred."

Bruce looked over his shoulder and saw the older man nod. He turned back to the crowd. "Hello, everyone. We're so glad you could join us today to celebrate Easter. The luncheon will start around eleven-thirty and the Easter Egg Hunt will begin around one, so you're free to play until then. If you need anything, you can ask me, my wife, Jen Kyle, John Blake, Alfred Pennyworth, or the adults you came with." A titter ran through the children. Bruce smiled, "Come around the house and let's have fun."

They led the way down the gravel path to the tables before the children surged past them to reach the games. The excited chatter crashed against them. Yolanda Ross stopped beside Selina as they reached the first table. "Hi, Selina. Bruce sent me the oddest email yesterday."

Selina rolled her eyes at him. "My husband, who I love and cherish, is convinced I will be kidnapped if I go pee. Did he ask you to never leave my side all day?"

Stephanie grabbed Bruce's hand and pulled.

"He phrased it less crudely." Yolanda laughed. "What is it with men and pregnancies? Tyler freaked out if I looked at fish." The women sat down at the table.

"Daddy!" Stephanie pulled harder. "Ponies!"

Bruce fell into step with her frantic tugging, but still heard Selina's smug voice. "Running after Stephanie all day is a far worse punishment than I could give him for it."

_Sad as it is,_ Bruce thought as he adjusted his grip on Stephanie's hand, _Selina's probably right._ He wouldn't not watch after her, not after Jen told them how close the Riddler came to taking the little girl. They reached the pony ring before the last saddle was taken. He stood at the temporary metal fence and watched the children clutch the saddle horns as the ponies plodded around the carousel they were tied to.

"Mr. Wayne?" Father Reilly shook his hand. "Thank you for inviting us to this event. It's been so long since the children have had some normal fun."

"It was our pleasure, Father."

A basketball careened across the gravel path. Bruce caught it before it hit anyone. "Sorry!" the young teenage boy called from the basketball hoop booth.

"Be more careful, Mark," Father Reilly said.

"Yes, Father." Mark crossed the path for the ball. "Did you play when you were in school?"

"Never learned the game, but I still have good reflexes." He tossed the ball back to Mark.

Stephanie, Tara, and Young Jerry now had Harper and Cullen in tow." Let's climb the rock wall."

"Duty calls. Enjoy yourself, Father." Bruce followed after the children.

Timothy Drake found him when the girls were halfway to the top. "Hello, Mr. Wayne, thank you for the invitation."

"Glad you could make it, Tim. Where are your parents?"

"Mom had to go to Oversees and meet Dad." He sighed before pointing to the tables. "But my new nanny Tracy is talking to Mrs. Wayne."

One of the spotters held up an empty harness. "Who's next?" Tim scurried forward with an excited hoot. The spotter buckled the harness around him and gave him instructions.

At the top of the wall, Stephanie waved down before pushing off. Her spotter controlled her descent, but that didn't stop Bruce's heart from leaving his chest and throttling his windpipe on the way out. She giggled as she skipped to him. "Did you see me?"

"Yes, but you're supposed to climb down." His voice sounded normal and he was amazed at that.

"I'll do it this time." She skipped back to the wall. "Hi Timmy!"

The bouncy castle kept them contained until the luncheon when their associated adults joined him to get them fed. The children from St. Swithin's needed less encouragement to inhale their food and go back for more. But it was also time for him to get bombarded by employees from Revitalize Gotham, Wayne Enterprises, and the Foundation who hadn't spoken with him yet. He smiled, joked, shook hands, and after the last group left him, he found the six children that had filled their own lavender table were gone. Stephanie's blonde head didn't pop out of the crowd to his roving gaze. He turned to the Manor.

He recognized the maid stationed at the door to guide people to the restrooms, one of the crew Alfred had in regularly over the years. "Have you seen my daughter and her friends?"

"They didn't come inside, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce pressed his lips together and scanned the crowd again. He still didn't see Stephanie's group. Jen and Blake had left the table area, so he approached them. "Jen--"

"For God's sake, I promise if I see him, I will scream and tackle him like a linebacker!"

Blake raised his eyebrows. "And we all think Selina is the scary one."

"Selina is the scary one. I'm just good at making a scene."

"Have either of you seen Stephanie?" Bruce asked with all the patience he could muster.

Jen pointed at the front of the Manor. "The whole gang of them headed that way. I think Stephanie was showing them where the playground is going. Come on, John, we have to round up the Easter egg hiders."

Bruce headed around the house and across the upper lawn to the concrete steps. The future playground was roped off on the west end of the walled formal gardens where they could see the swings and slides from the west wing patio. The children were not climbing over the equipment stage there to build the playground, good. He heard their voices now, good.

"The paper clip isn't working," Cullen said.

"Mommy had a screwdriver too," Stephanie said.

"My desk in the city has a screwdriver, but that doesn't help us here," Harper said.

"Where do you keep the tools?" Young Jerry asked. "In the garage?"

"I don't know," Stephanie answered.

Bruce reached the open gate into the formal gardens. Through the trimmed hedges and raised flowerbeds, he saw the children clustered around the door of the greenhouse at the east end of the garden.

Tara tapped a pane of glass beside the door frame. "We can break this."

"How will the plants stay alive?" Tim asked. "What about a Popsicle stick? Instead of a screwdriver."

"Let me have it." Tim passed Stephanie the dessert-free Popsicle stick and she jammed it into the padlock's key slot. "Not skinny enough," she said.

Bruce stopped behind them. "What are you doing?"

He was rewarded with wide-eyed, guilty stares from everyone who wasn't his daughter. Stephanie continued poking the straightened paperclip into the padlock. "We're getting flowers for our mommies. The only flowers are in here. Why is it locked?"

"Because we wanted to keep people out of here."

"We aren't people, we're family." Stephanie turned from the lock. "Can we have some flowers, please?"

"Please, Mr. Wayne?" Tara added and the other children echoed it.

Bruce stepped forward, pulled the paperclip wire from the padlock, and unlocked it. "Just a few, okay? We don't want the gardeners mad at us."

"Okay!" They surged into the hot, fragrant room. Bruce closed the door and took the snips off the tool table.

"How come you don't want anybody in here?" Harper looked up from a pot of day lilies. "Are these flowers expensive?"

"No, the gardeners want them blooming before they put them in the flower beds." Bruce cut the yellow hyacinth Young Jerry picked. "We keep it locked because of the old well over there." He pointed to the thigh-high circle of bricks capped with a metal lid. It was locked, but he didn't need to draw their attention to that.

"Stay away from it, Timmy. We don't want you to fall down it," Young Jerry said.

Timothy frowned as he looked up from the white crocus. "I'm not over there. Why'd you say that?"

"It's something my dad says when he hears a dog barking: Timmy fell down the well again."

"I never did!"

"It's from an old television show," Bruce cut some of the crocus for Timothy. "The boy was named Timmy and he'd get into trouble and his dog would go bark at people to get help on the show."

" _Lassie_ ," Tara added. "Me and Daddy used to watch it before Bane." Stephanie darted from the table of irises and hugged Tara.

"What's a well?" Cullen ignored the flowers Harper held out to stare at the well.

"It's a hole dug to get fresh water," Bruce explained as he clipped Tara's daffodils. "Now we put electric pumps on pipes so no one will fall in, but when that one was dug, people had to pull water up with a bucket."

"Did anyone fall into that one?" Cullen asked.

"I did when I was about Young Jerry's age and sprained my arm. That's why the greenhouse is locked." Bruce left out the bats, and the children promised to leave the well alone without that added fright. He snipped the flowers they chose until everyone had a small bouquet except Harper. "You can have some flowers too."

She shifted on her feet. "It's okay. I helped Cullen pick."

He let it go. Children had their own logic about things and what did he know about siblings? He relocked the greenhouse and ushered the group back to the tables.

They crossed paths with Blake and Jen lecturing a group of young teenagers holding baskets of colored eggs. "Mr. Wayne's parents are buried there, so show some respect. The cemetery is off limits."

Jen whirled on Bruce. "They're not supposed to be here. You're going to give them an unfair advantage."

"I'm not trying to," Bruce said.

She shooed them and followed. "Don't start hiding until I give an all-clear." The teenagers snickered as they swung the baskets.

The children broke into a run when they rounded the corner of the Manor. "Mommy!" Stephanie's clear voice cut through the rest of the noise. She skidded to a stop next to Selina's chair and thrust the purple irises at her. "Happy Easter!"

"Happy Easter, thank you." She took the bouquet and glanced around the table at the other bouquets Anita and Yolanda were accepting. "Sweetie, you didn't get these from the house vases, did you?"

"No, that would make Alfred mad. Daddy opened the greenhouse for us."

"Let's go see the animals," Tara said.

Bruce took a deep breath and moved to follow the children.

"Do we need to have a talk with Tim?" Jen held up the crocus and Grecian Windflower bouquet. Lucius saluted her with the tulips from Cullen.

The petting zoo kept them contained until the Easter egg hunt began. The five-year-olds and younger hunted in the front flower beds and the lawn inside the circle drive while the older children had the rest of the lawn. Bruce watched on the sidelines with the other parents since he had clear sight lines and didn't need to be right next to Stephanie. But he only shifted his gaze once when Selina joined his side. She squeezed his arm. "Having fun?"

"I'm glad it's been quiet, criminally speaking," he added as children squealed.

"Everyone has been impressed with your devoted fatherhood."

He didn't know what to say to that, but supposed he couldn't blame anyone for being glad his immature, inconsiderate ass persona hadn't procreated or for fearing how his children could turn out. "Everyone has had a good time?"

"Everyone I've seen. I'm afraid we're gaining the reputation as good party givers."

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. "We're done with parties until the baby gets here."

She leaned into him. "I know, you know, and more importantly, Alfred knows."

"Mr. Wayne?"

Selina watched Stephanie while he turned to the teenagers who approached them. He recognized the boy with the stray basketball from this morning. "Mark, isn't it? How can I help you?"

"Yes, sir. We were wondering; why do you have a cemetery? We didn't put any eggs in there."

"The Wayne family has owned and lived on this land since the Revolutionary War. Back then, it was too far to take a body to Gotham for burial, so they set aside a cemetery. The Waynes have been buried here ever since."

The boys murmured, appreciating knowing where the rest of the family was, before moving away. Selina tucked her arm around his back. Stephanie shrieked as she pulled a purple egg from a shrub.

Selina took charge of the gift basket receiving line after the Easter egg hunt was finished. She partially squatted closer to Stephanie. "Remember these baskets are for our guests. You'll get yours tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Mommy, I know." She jerked a basket from the table of them and thrust it into the arms of a dark-skinned boy her age. "Happy Easter!"

He blinked and looked through the cellophane at the action figures posed among the candy. "Catwoman!" His thick lips broke apart as he grinned. "She let us out of the city on the Bat-bike. Looks just like her. Mark, look!"

"What Aaron?" Bruce handed the older boy a basket. "Holy Toys 'R Us, we get the whole set?"

"The whole set," Bruce answered with a smile.

"There's Nightwing too," another boy noticed.

"Tara, here's yours." Stephanie gave her a pink basket that had the same toys and candy. Selina had been insistent that they all get the same no matter what gender.

"Thank you! My favorite candy too."

"Don't eat it all at once," Selina cautioned. "You'll make yourself sick."

"Here you go, Harper and Cullen." Bruce passed a pair of baskets to them.

Cullen's eyes widened. "Batman!"

Harper looked up at Lucius. "Can I keep mine at my desk? Mr. Turner has _Star Wars_ toys on his."

"Of course, anything we let in the building, you can have on your desk."

She turned to Cullen. "We'll keep mine there in case yours get broke where I can't fix them."

"Good idea," Cullen agreed.

Bruce saw the angry spark in Fox's eyes before the older man wiped it away. "We'll put them on your desk before I take you home," Fox said.

"But the building is locked today?"

"I have a key." He shook Bruce's hand. "Thank you, Bruce, I feel appreciated."

"Drive safely, Lucius, and thanks for coming."

Father Reilly approached them when the last of the St. Swithin's children were in line for their baskets. "Mr. Wayne, this is too much."

"It's not enough, Father. We orphans of Gotham have to stick together."

"And you have to keep them all from eating all the candy at once," Selina added.

The priest squeezed Bruce's hand as tears sprang to his eyes. "God bless you, Mr. Wayne, and your family. God bless you."

Bruce glanced at Selina and Stephanie handing out the baskets to other guests. Selina smirked when she saw his gaze. _This is as blessed as I could ever get._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first learned about Joshua and Solomon Wayne in _Shadow of the Bat Volume 1 Number 45: Wayne Manor: Anatomy of a Murder_ , one of the few Batman comics I have bought and kept. Joshua Wayne will show up again, and if you have read the comic, you probably have a good guess as to how he will be showing up again. Helena Wayne is an OC that I added to the Wayne family tree, because screw the Wayne family only being filled with interesting men characters, and somebody needed to own that emerald necklace before Bruce.
> 
> While doing research on that Wayne family tree, I ended up making a graphic of the family tree for this series. I don't want to show it now because it has a spoiler for later developments, but I'll remember to put it up in a few chapters.
> 
> Probably not the last of the comic references, but we have finally reached the introduction of two characters I mentioned way back in Chapter Nine: Harper and Cullen Row. I altered their race because the characters are a great addition to the Batman universe (I love their background and their sibling bond) but really how many more straight up white people does the Batman universe need?
> 
> Sorry this chapter took longer than you expected. Sewing my Halloween outfit took more time than I expected.


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 115

Blake yawned before crawling further into the ventilation shaft. He tapped on the slim radio microphone on his goggles. "Why am I doing this?"

"How many times are you going to ask the same question?" Selina answered. "Because Cadmus wants a secured building and it's my job to double-check that. So I'm paying you because I can't fit through that door with a camera. The picture is coming in fine." Her voice shifted from the microphone, but he still heard her. "Look how far he's in. Yes, it is a door." Her voice strengthened over his ear. "Oh, laser grid. Remember what we went over?"

"I remember." He stopped as the red lines appeared in the infrared lenses. He uncovered the electrical panel powering the grid, and recognized the wire configuration that Selina had been quizzing him for weeks. He clipped on her tool, the red lines disappeared, and he slithered past. He retrieved the tool without triggering the lasers.

"Good, I didn't even have to coach you. Three feet ahead and you'll have the whole building as your playground."

Blake surged forward on his bruised forearms. He saw the light through the register, and slid the goggles off his head. He tucked everything into his belt pouch before he lifted the register and dropped into the security room below. "Here I am. What's my time?"

The Cadmus Project's security chief scowled at him while Selina shut down her laptop. "Slower than my average for this type of building."

"Practice, practice, practice." He picked up his jacket on top of the laptop bag on a spare table.

"Yes, I've had plenty of it and you haven't." Selina turned to the jaw-clenched security chief. "That's all I need to do here. Shall I include you on my emailed report?"

"Please do, Mrs. Wayne," he gritted out before shaking her hand. "Let me show you out."

Blake carried her packed laptop bag as they moved down the halls filled with construction workers and movers. The security chief led them all the way to the small skyscraper's parking garage floor and stood by the elevators watching them load. Blake opened the SUV's door for Selina before climbing behind the wheel. "Maybe you shouldn't have made fun of his metal detector."

"It's the cheapest one on the market. It doesn't even pick up barrettes people wear." She waved at the dour man as they drove past him. "Now that's over with, we can talk about Bruce."

"I have no idea what he'd want for Father's Day."

She sighed as she rubbed her belly. "His sleeping is worse, but I'm more concerned about the bruises on your arms."

Blake plastered on a fake smile. "Hey, I held my own when I earned these bruises."

The SUV felt like the inside of a glacier. "Don't dare do that don't-worry, don't-stress-out the pregnant woman shit. I know something's wrong with Bruce and you know it will take both of us to stop him from doing something stupid."

He let the fake goodwill fade and showed his worry that had been building for weeks. "Sorry, I should've realized he couldn't hide it from you. So he isn't sleeping too?"

"His nightmares are waking him up. Not as bad as they were during the Occupation though. The only reason I know is because it's impossible to sleep while pregnant. What is he doing to you?"

"It's just when we spar." A quick glance to the passenger seat revealed that he hadn't reassured her. "When he's teaching, especially teaching Stephanie, he's present and focused on the task. But when it's just us sparring, I'm not the one he's punching."

"I would love nothing more than to kick the Riddler's ass too, but I'm not taking my frustrations out on you."

"I'm glad to know these B&E exercises are strictly for my education."

"You'll thank me when you need to sneak into a bad situation." Selina sighed as she looked out the window. "I don't know how to make him stop dwelling on it."

He matched her sigh. "I don't know either. And the Riddler hasn't done anything since."

"Inconsiderate asshole."

His view that criminals nearly always were inconsiderate assholes was bound not to go over well, so he went to his next quibble. "Shouldn't we be having this conspiracy meeting with Alfred?"

She shook her head. "Alfred will go into don't worry your pregnant head about it, so I'd rather save him as a last resort. Besides, Bruce has listened to just us before."

_But he still did what he thought was best without us._ Blake wouldn't bring that. "So do we have a plan for it he puts on the suit?"

"Booby trap the suit cabinet with knockout gas. You keep yours in a different cabinet, right?"

"That... that could work."

* * *

Stephanie liked going to work with Daddy. His office now had two desks: Bruce's larger one under a large painting of Gotham at night and her smaller one next to the glass wall. She was always good and sat there with her coloring or books when he had people in for a meeting. And usually Daddy had something fun to show her after the meetings, either on his computer or in the building.

"So we're on track for training with the police department in a month?" Bruce closed the folder and passed it back to Ms. Hooks. They sat in the corner with the springy black chairs.

"We're on schedule production-wise," she answered. "Now we need to talk about the publicity. Oh don't make that face; PR is scared enough of you already."

Stephanie looked up to see Bruce's scowl shift to a smirk. "I know they want to make a big fuss about the product and drum up more orders," Bruce answered. "But the police are going to insist on not showing anything that would hamper their crime fighting and I agree with that."

"Of course you do. I'll tell them to talk to GCPD's PR department so we're all on the same page. But they'll want you have a statement."

"They always want a statement. I'll have one, just to not disappoint you, Jessica. Have a good day."

"You too, Bruce. Bye, Stephanie."

"Bye-bye." Stephanie looked up at the closing door.

"That's the last meeting for Wayne Enterprises. We have to finish shopping and then we can go on inspections with Mr. Crusher."

"Shopping for what?" She closed her numbers book.

"A Mother's Day gift for Mommy. Come see." He sat at his desk and adjusted the computer screen so she could see it better. "If you don't like it, we'll have to find something else."

"What's Mother's Day?"

Daddy scooped her onto his lap. "It's a holiday to show how much you appreciate her on the second Sunday of May. You want to show her that, right?"

"Yeah, she's the only one who wanted me."

He pointed to the computer screen. "This is what I found to give Mommy."

The green rectangle was different from the green stone in Mommy's ring and it was surrounded by swirly lines of sparkly stones. A round white ball hung from the bottom and a smaller one sat on top. "Pretty. Is it a necklace?"

"No, it's a brooch. You wear it pinned to your clothes."

"That's not the same stone in Mommy's ring."

"That's right. The green on the brooch is your birthstone, peridot."

"Birthstone?" She wrinkled her nose as she looked at him.

"Each month has a gem stone associated with it. You were born in August, so your birthstone is peridot. We're expecting your little sister in June, so the pearls are for her." He pointed to the white ball on the brooch. "Do you like it for Mommy?"

"Yeah, let's buy it." His hand moved the mouse and he pressed the button to buy it. She thought of another question. "Is there a Father's Day?"

"Third Sunday in June, and you need to talk to Mommy about what to get me." He kissed her cheek and set her on the floor. "Pack up."

"Okay." She ran back to her desk and pulled her bag out from under it. She hadn't been on inspections with Mr. Crusher, so that was a new adventure. "Hey, when's Alfred's Day?"

"We'll have to pick one. But you're right, Alfred deserves a day too."

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 136

"I can't believe you've never been to a baseball game." Babs Gordon pushed Jen up the stadium steps to their seats.

"It always looked boring on TV." Jen zipped her jacket as they sat in the green plastic seats.

The redhead wrinkled her button nose. "Yeah, no, this is one sport that doesn't translate to television. You have to watch it live."

Jen agreed and silently hoped she liked it. If she did, maybe it would be a good date to bring Renee on. They hadn't had time for another date between the weird bank robberies Renee had been assigned to after the Riddler murder and Jen's classes and the family stuff. Easter was fun, but still a lot of work. Luckily, all those do-dahs were canceled until Selina had the baby.

Babs flagged someone sitting above them and started talking about one of her assignments. Jen turned her attention down to the field. They managed to put stripes in the grass that pointed to the city skyline above the campus' trees. How did they do that? Men in green and white uniforms surged out from under the seats on the right side of the field and surrounded a man in a burlap hood and a man in black armor. "Hey, Babs, you never said anything about a pregame show."

"There isn't supposed to be." Babs twisted to face the field. "Damn, that's the Scarecrow!" Before Jen could react, the redhead jumped up and bounded down the concrete steps. "Call the police!" she yelled back.

"Babs!" Other people in the stands pulled out their cell phones, so Jen ran after her. Selina would kill her for running towards the danger like this. The baseball players screamed as they ran; some fell to the ground and some attacked each other. The armored man dodged a baseball bat swung by a bellowing player. A blue bird-shape was painted across the chest revealed to the audience as he twisted away from the bat. _Nightwing, that has to be Nightwing._

The man with the burlap mask over his head ran across home plate. Babs grabbed the top rail at the end of the steps and did a splint on it before throwing herself into a flip. The only time Jen had seen anything like that was during the Olympics. Babs' feet knocked Scarecrow to the dirt. A brown cloud billowed around them.

Nightwing kicked out with his leg and knocked the baseball player's legs out from under him. The player fell onto his back.

Jen reached the railing at the end of the steps. "Babs!" Her friend had tied the Scarecrow's arms behind his back with his jacket. She glanced up at the stand with a broad grin. "Look out!" Jen screamed as another baseball player charged behind Babs brandishing the bat like a club.

Babs spun around and kicked up. Her foot caught his stomach. That stopped his charge, but he sucked in air and heaved the bat down over his head.

Nightwing pivoted, grabbed the bat and yanked the player off Babs' foot. He dropped to a knee and punched the player. "Get off the field!"

"They'll kill Crane!" Babs yelled back.

Nightwing pulled her to her feet before grabbing under one of Scarecrow's arms. Babs grabbed the other one and they pulled him to the stand. Jen knelt and reached under the bottom rail. Nightwing lifted Babs so she could grab Jen's hand. Jen gritted her teeth, held onto the rail, and pulled. Babs let go when she grabbed the rail and slithered over the round metal. Babs dropped next to Jen and leaned over. "Pass him here."

"Give me a minute!" Nightwing dodged a player who lunged at him. He threw an uppercut that connected with the player's chin. Before the player hit the ground, Nightwing heaved Scarecrow over his head.

Jen grabbed his leg while Babs pulled his upper body under the railing. "Are you crazy?" Jen yelled at her.

"This asshole tried to kill my father. Sent him onto the ice." Babs heaved him into the aisle in front of the first row and let go so Scarecrow dropped onto the concrete. She leaned over the railing. "Get out of there."

Nightwing leaped up and grabbed the bottom rail. Jen scrambled over Scarecrow's prone body and grabbed a black armored arm along with Babs. They got Nightwing even with the railing right before a pair of players collided where he had stood. So Jen's first baseball game ended up with her staring at the face of the vigilante who had taken over for Batman.

She focused on every acting skill Selina had drilled into her to never give Catwoman away. She concentrated on his mask--so much like Catwoman's--but the specialized lenses were against his temples instead of on top of his wavy brown hair. Her acting skills faltered when her gaze hit his familiar brown eyes. She looked down at the berserking players.

John Blake was Nightwing. Holy shit, John Blake was Nightwing!

"What the hell did he give them?" Babs asked as Nightwing climbed over the railing.

"A fear toxin that makes them aggressive. Luckily, it only worked on half the team." The other half was curled up on the ground, not attacking anyone. Nightwing plucked something from his dull gold belt and spoke into it. "Montoya, you got the fear toxin antidote?" The speaker must be in his ear, because Jen couldn't hear Renee's response. "We need it in tranquilizer darts at Hudson U's baseball stadium. The players got hit with a new formula that has pissed them off." He smirked. "Aw, don't get all Spanish on Allen. I'm cuffing Crane right now. And here comes campus security. See you in twenty." He tucked the radio back into his belt and glanced at Babs before kneeling next to Scarecrow. "Did you break him when you landed on him?"

"Didn't feel any broken bones when I tied his hands," she answered as he snapped on cuffs below her knots. She looked up at the campus security officers who approached them with Tasers out. "We should lock down the field so no one can get in or out."

The lead rent-a-cop bristled. "You aren't in charge here. Get back in your seat."

Nightwing stood. "She's right. The players have been drugged and the police are on their way with the antidote. Someone meaning well could get hurt. Lock down the field and the stadium." The rent-a-cops holstered their Tasers and started giving orders into their walkie-talkies. Nightwing turned back to Babs. "Thank you for your assistance, but you two should go back to your seats, so the audience can leave safely."

"Yeah, this cancelled the game. Come on, Jen."

Jen didn't even look at Nightwing as they climbed the steps. "My sister needs to give you one of her risky behaviors lectures. You could have broken your neck."

Babs grinned with a touch of recklessness. "Only my ankles were in danger and Crane cushioned them nicely."

Other students started questioning Babs, so Jen slumped in her seat and stared at the field. Catwoman worked with Batman and Nightwing to stop Bane, and then she rescued Stephanie and kept the kid because she didn't have anybody else. But why keep Nightwing? It didn't pay to poke at any holes in any of Selina' stories. Now Jen had to poke holes in Selina's story of the Occupation, and she didn't want to.

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 142

Selina pushed away her breakfast plate with a disgusted look. Bruce frowned and she explained. "It's giving me heartburn just looking at it."

His frown eased into sympathy. "Fruit?" He picked up the bowl of cut melons and berries. She accepted it, speared a cantaloupe, and nibbled on it. "It's not because I woke you up during the night, is it?"

"No and no. I was already awake last night and the heartburn has been flaring for a couple of weeks now. Pregnancy," she made the disgusted face again.

"Is that why you keep asking me to find someone working on an artificial womb?" Bruce buttered his toast.

"You really should be looking harder for that. If not for my comfort, how about everybody with fertility issues?"

Their bedroom door eased open and Stephanie peeked inside. She saw them dressed and eating at the breakfast table, barged in, and carried a wrapped present to Selina. "Happy, Mother's Day, Mommy!"

"Thank you, sweetie." Selina gave her an awkward hug and glanced up at Bruce's small smirk. "You two didn't have to get me anything, you know."

"Of course we did. It's Stephanie's first Mother's Day and the first one I've had a reason to celebrate in thirty-two years. Open it up."

She slid the white ribbon off the baby blue box. A beautiful peridot, pearl, and diamond brooch rested on the satin cushion inside. "Oh it's beautiful, Victorian," she turned it over and examined the back, "and from Tiffany's." Eighteen thousand was her monetary guess, but she wasn't going to bring that up for Stephanie to question.

"Daddy found it, but I okayed it. It's my birthstone."

"Yes, it is." Selina bent and kissed Stephanie's cheek. "Thank you for a lovely gift, but I hope the diamonds aren't a hint we should plan a third child for April."

"No hint of any kind." Bruce leaned over and kissed her lips. "That was the best of the jewelry combining peridot and pearls. My vote is we leave more children up to chance."

"We'll talk about that later." Selina pinned the brooch to her shirt.

They ended up on the patio off the west wing of the house: Selina stretched out on a chaise lounge while Bruce and Stephanie kicked a soccer ball across the grass. Jen plopped on the chair next to Selina. "Oh John's not up yet?"

"He does work the night shift; he can sleep in if he needs to. You can too."

She wrinkled her nose. "I got an assignment due tomorrow and I need to get it done so I can sleep tonight."

"You didn't bring any school books out here with you," Selina smirked.

"I haven't started yet," Jen pouted. Selina closed her eyes. The day was warm and sunny, and she could never get enough basking in the sun. It drove the memories of winter away. The seat cushion squeaked under Jen. "What made you guys hire John?"

"His credentials are impeccable, he was the first one in the city to realize Bane was up to no good, he did a lot during the Occupation to help people, and I think Bruce has always wanted a little brother." She opened her eyes and looked at Jen's thoughtful face. "Why all the questions about John? I thought you--"

"No, not that. Not for me. A classmate saw him when he picked me up last week and I realized I didn't know enough to hook them up."

"Jen, you are not good at hook ups. Remember Monica and Ross in your therapy group?"

"That was years ago."

"Sam and Gina when we moved to Old Town."

"How was I supposed to know they dated in high school?"

"If you want to help John date, just introduce the two of them and walk out of the line of fire."

Jen harrumphed under her breath and then noticed the brooch. "Is that what Bruce gave you for Mother's Day?"

"Stephanie and Bruce."

"I thought they were getting you a bracelet from Cartier's."

"Cartier is still working on replacing all the diamonds with amethysts. I think it hurt their feelings that I didn't want all the diamonds, so they're dragging their feet."

"All because of your thing about diamonds." Jen rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Hey, every woman who can afford it has a diamond bracelet from Cartier's. Nobody will have my purple panther."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've felt like the past couple of chapters have been filler, you're not entirely wrong. Film would make it easier to do time jumps. But I did try to make it interesting filler with repercussions and pretties.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 159

Bruce walked down a long hallway of the Manor. The cape billowed out behind him and the cowl rested comfortably on his head. The shadows pooled around his booted feet. He opened the doors to the ballroom.

The green-suited man stood in the center of the room and swelled to fill it. "Batman, it's time to match wits with the Riddler."

Bruce didn't answer as he looked for the best weak spot on the giant upper body before him. How true was the bigger they are, the harder they fall saying?

The pupil-less white eyes inside the purple domino mask narrowed thoughtfully. "I have millions of eyes, yet I live in darkness. I have millions of ears, yet only four lobes. I have no muscles, yet I rule two hemispheres. What am I?"

"The human brain," Bruce answered despite intending not to play along with this obsessed criminal.

"My, my, there is one of those under that pointy-eared cowl of yours. Too bad they didn't figure it out." The Riddler flung out his arm and the room changed under its shadow. Bruce ran to the crumpled couple lying in the alley beside the side exit of the Gotham City Opera House. Neither Nightwing nor Selina moved, and his ungloved hands were too small to staunch the blood from her chest.

His ears rang with his screams, but his eyes opened to the semi-darkened bedroom. Selina muttered in her sleep and rolled away from him. He slipped out of their bed, wrapped his father's robe around his body, and eased the bedroom door shut behind him.

This had gone on for too long. The obsessed murderer had to have left a clue to his identity. No criminal was that clever with hiding. His fuming stride carried him down to the cave.

The sense memory of wearing the suit in his dream was strong, but the answers weren't out there to beat out of anyone. The days of squeezing informants on the mob were years over. And it was better that Batman died over the ocean than risk the temptation of being an executioner again. He jerked his gaze away from his hands. The Tumbler was parked on the furthest cube, leaving open the one with the suits and computer bank. Those days ended when he became unworthy of the suit.

Bruce turned to the computer terminal in the wall on the shore. He organized the virtual copies of the Riddler's clues in chronological, ignored the voice in his head asking how many times he was going to look at the same evidence, and read the first clue again. 

> Some bluebirds told me,  
> They saw a puddy **k** at,  
> In a concrete cage,  
> Made by Bane.
> 
> She wasn't alone tee-he,  
> She never named the bat,  
> But what acts the **y** did engage,  
>  Before boom went the plane.
> 
> Did anyone foresee,  
> That I found the puddykat,  
> In a gi **l** ded cage,  
> Owned by Wayne.
> 
> How could she agree  
> To forget the bat?  
> No grief to assuag **e** ,  
> __________ shows no pain.

Bluebirds referred to the police, specifically the ones trapped underground with them: Montoya, Jensen, and Kelley. Jensen speculated that Catwoman was pregnant and soon all the cops were gossiping about that.

Bruce scowled at the line "That I found the puddykat." The Riddler had been to the penthouse. As much as he hated the idea, it felt more right than the Riddler had learned about Selina through the tabloid news.

That wasn't an eureka moment of reasoning tonight. When they realized Jen had seen the Riddler without a mask, Bruce insisted she look at every guest who had been to the penthouse. Jen had been adamant that no one from Bruce's birthday party was the Riddler.

But they wouldn't be. True, the Riddler could have infiltrated with the extra staff, but the clue was left on the Tumbler January ninth, practically a month away from his birthday. The only guests they had in the first few weeks after the Occupation ended were Lucius Fox and Amanda Waller. Lucius was beyond reproach, but Waller's people with Cadmus had access to Selina's information. And they were still in town to approach Jen and Stephanie at Liberty Church.

He rubbed his hands and proceeded to hack into Cadmus Project's payroll records. A few hours later, he had a list of names on Waller's security detail for the January trip and a list of names of people stationed in the Gotham branch. He rubbed his face before setting the list aside to look at the clues leading to Harriet Allnut's body.

Those riddles displayed the Riddler's sense of superiority, his knowledge of pop culture, and his familiarity with Gotham City. Bruce made a note on his Cadmus suspects list to look extra carefully at the ones who lived in Gotham previously. He moved onto the last riddle.

> What name belongs on the record of birth?  
> Loss of consortium leads to no mirth.  
> Come to your old tree house if benedict has any worth.

The Riddler admitted to Selina how he figured out Willowwood from the way she treated Roger Cly and from her records. Cadmus could access both.

He leaned back and let his eyes drift out of focus. The only other option he saw right now was an enemy Selina had using Batman as a screen. The Cadmus Project employees were more likely than that. He saved the list as he yawned and headed back upstairs.

Selina sat on the edge of their bed and withered him with a look. "Would it kill you to leave me a note?"

"Sorry, I didn't want to wake you. Are you all right?"

"Braxton Hicks contractions; I was about to get in the tub."

"May I join you or are you mad at me?"

She smirked at him. "Go fill the tub." She didn't ask about his nightmare or his research until they were both in the heated water, her back against his chest, and his hands stroking over her contracted belly. "Anything new or just an exercise in futility?"

"Do you have any enemies? Someone who would go to any lengths to get revenge."

"The only one who fits that category is ole Hellhound." She leaned her head on Bruce's shoulder. "But riddles, mazes, and traps weren't his style. He'd invade the Manor for a duel." Her hand slid against his tense thigh under the water. "So Batman as a smokescreen for the Riddler's obsession with Catwoman? Sorry, lover, but he cared less that he had me in his clutches."

"It was a long shot. What steps do we need to take against this Hellhound? Have the Manor blessed?" Her muscles began to relax under his fingers.

"We were students of the same sensei, but his attitude problem with me really took off when I beat him to the magical amulet he wanted."

"Magical amulet?"

"He had a thing for anything claiming to be magical." She shrugged. "The only thing magical it did for me was turn into a pile of cash when I handed it over to a guy calling himself Jason Blood. Anyways, Kai declared us mortal enemies, renamed himself Hellhound, fought me, and got his ass kicked." She turned her head and kissed his neck. "But don't worry about him. The last letter I got from my sensei said a magical artifact he went after ate him."

"Ate him?" Bruce nuzzled her cheek.

She shrugged again. "My sensei's words, not mine. Is that the only idea you had?"

"No, the other is a variation of the Riddler has been to the penthouse. What if he is or was Cadmus?"

"If Waller wanted me to confirm Batman's identity, she doesn't need to murder Harriet Allnut or kidnap me."

He shook his head. "Not sanctioned, a rogue agent with ties there."

She turned to face him. "My being Catwoman is an open secret over there."

"And they knew Selina Kyle was with Wayne while the rest of the city was still guessing who you were." His hands trailed over her body. "It's a new list to check into."

"Just make it a shorter list if you want Jen to do another photo line-up. Poor kid is stressed over finals."

"She is?" Bruce had noticed the gradual skittishness, but had attributed it to something else. "I thought she had a problem with me."

Selina's brow knitted. "She hasn't said anything to me. Maybe she thinks you'll kick her out if she flunks."

"Don't let her panic about that. I wouldn't."

"I'll talk with her later." She moved closer and slid her hands up his chest. "How about right now you rub me some more?" One of her hands tangled into his hair, wetting it as she pulled him closer for a kiss.

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 166

Blake pulled the SUV to the curb outside Hudson U's Business College building and waited. He tried to see the afternoon as not a total loss. He removed a Cadmus agent from their list of Riddler suspects and practiced B&E. His lock picking skill was improving. Selina would pat his head for that, but Bruce deserved better news. And as much as Blake would love to tell him the Riddler was found, this Cadmus agent had an alibi for Selina's kidnapping. While it was possible to fake video evidence, the former suspect had a collection of personal sex videos made over years and in the three months after Selina's kidnapping. Blake believed the time stamp on the February twentieth file.

Jen opened the passenger side door and climbed into the front seat. "Did something happen?" she asked.

"No, a lead didn't pan out, that's all. Sorry, how were your finals?" He merged the vehicle into the traffic.

"The easy ones are done, but I don't know how I'm going to handle the one for Introduction to Statistical Reasoning when I can't stop thinking on how I'm the biggest idiot who lives in a mansion."

Blake smiled. "That's not true. You're heaps smarter than the Airhead Brigade from the wedding reception. Remember them?"

She shook her head. "That doesn't help me deal with Selina and Bruce."

"What happened?"

"I kept blaming Batman for what happened to Selina with Bruce right there!" She waved her hands in emphasis.

"You think Bruce is upset about that? He knows you were just scared for Selina."

"Yes, Nightwing, I do think Batman is mad I said it was all his fault!" She crossed her arms over her chest.

He jerked the wheel to the left and jerked it back before they crossed into the other lane. The driver of the car in that lane honked the horn as he sped past the SUV. "What gave you that crazy idea?" He managed to ask as his stomach fell out of his body and dragged along the street.

"You dodging baseball bats at the stadium."

"You didn't say anything!" He shot a brief glare at her.

"Who is my sister, John? I know how to not give things away, especially what can get someone arrested." Jen slumped against the seat. "Nothing from the Occupation made sense. I was calling Selina's cell phone and the Manor every day. Any panic room Bruce built would have phone access. Or Selina would have snuck out and called me back. She didn't because she couldn't. Bane had her locked up with Batman."

She sounded so hurt, Blake didn't know how to respond.

"So that didn't fit. And Bruce came for Selina's help just like Bane's men said Batman would. And you didn't fit."

"Me?"

"Selina kept Stephanie, but she had no reason to keep Batman's junior partner. She confirmed Bruce kept you and they're both so gaga about the baby that would be Batman's thanks to getting locked up by Bane, so Bruce is Batman." Blake was too stunned to say anything. "Don't try to lie about it now," she snapped at his silence.

"I'm glad you didn't learn about it from Stephanie."

"Stephanie? Wait, you love Batman. Goddamnit, **the baby** was told before me!" You all suck!" She crossed her arms tighter and stared out the window.

Blake turned onto the Queens Bridge as he considered the best way to break the angry silence. They crossed to the Palisades before he opened his mouth. "Bruce didn't want the knowledge to make you a target. The masks are to protect your loved ones from the bad guys."

"I know that."

"When we found Stephanie, we also had to deal with Bruce bleeding out from his last fight with Bane and his hard landing from the Bat's escape pod. She found out and we've worked hard to make her understand she can't tell." Jen's arms relaxed slightly. "Why didn't you ask Selina?"

Her arms dropped free. "Bruce makes her happy. I haven't seen her happy like this since our parents died. And I go shitting all over the guy who makes her happy."

"Whatever you're worried about, Bruce has already forgotten about it. I let Selina get kidnapped and he hasn't thrown me out. Just apologize for it, tell him you know, and go study with a clear head."

"How the hell did you let... what is that?" She pointed out the windshield.

Blake stopped the SUV before the gate automatically swung open. A green card the size of a poster board hung from the gate's top spikes. "One man's death wish," he finally said. He opened the door. "Wait here."

He took his forensic toolkit out of the back seat and photographed the card while shaking his head. The face had _Mrs. Selina Kyle Wayne_ printed on it. He gloved up before untying the bow on the card's spine, pulled the green ribbon off the gate, and bagged it. The card was too big for any evidence bags in his kit. "Don't touch it," he warned Jen as he packed it into the back seat.

She waited until he drove onto the manor grounds. "Are you telling me that the creep who kidnapped my sister is sending her love notes?"

"I haven't read any love notes from the Riddler. He leaves riddles, and we're keeping that out of the press."

Jen didn't say anything as she fumed in the passenger seat until they parked inside the garage. "I'm getting Selina!" She slammed open the door to the kitchen.

Blake followed her with the green card and the bagged ribbon. Alfred peeked out of his office. "That's not how Miss Jen normally returns home." His perplexed frown deepened when he saw the green oversized card. "That parcel did not come by the postal service. The blackguard dared to come here?"

"Dared up to the gate." Blake laid it on the clean kitchen island. "Is Bruce home?"

"Not yet." Alfred joined him. "Missus Selina worked from home today, so I remained here with her and Miss Stephanie."

Blake sighed. "I left last and it wasn't tied to the gate then, but that was hours ago."

Jen's voice reached them through the door that had swung shut behind her. "I can't think about your fundraising ideas while a crazy wacko is threatening you!" The door swung into the kitchen and Jen dragged Selina in by her arm.

"It doesn't do any good to hire them if no one will go to the show." The teasing dropped from Selina's expression when she saw the green on the island. "The Riddler?"

"It's the right color green," Blake said.

"Obviously, I took the wrong tack with this guy. I should have told him what happened to Bane in excruciating detail."

Blake opened the card with his still gloved hands. The poem was printed in a large, black font matching the size of the card. 

> Cat carried out on a wing and a prayer;  
> such an unexpected end to our stalemate.  
> 'Tis a pity that I became your honeymoon delayer.  
> For that alone, you shall not capitulate.  
> I am not a royalty of Gotham forayer;  
> so enjoy your family before they dissipate.

Instead of a signature, a riddle in a smaller font size was printed near the bottom of the card.

> A beggar's brother went out to sea and drowned. But the man who drowned had no brother. What was the relationship between the man and the beggar?

"And instead of signing his name, he leaves a riddle." Alfred shook his head. "This chap is so sharp he's liable to cut himself."

"Are you sure you didn't hit him in the head?" Jen asked Selina.

"I wish I could take the credit."

Blake turned the card over, but it was only marred with smudges from the railings. He would test them to make sure, but he reopened the card to glean insight from the words. "Forayer?"

"One who forays, raids, or pillages." Everyone stared at Alfred. "I have always been a fan of crossword puzzles."

"So he says he's not going to foray, raid, or pillage the royalty of Gotham. The tabloids always call Bruce the Prince of Gotham City. Sounds like the Riddler is going to leave you and Bruce alone."

Selina's lips puckered. "The same tabloids that call me Cinderella. I'm not expert, but I think this crazy thing is an apology."

"One could read an apology in the 'tis a pity line, but he may just be sorry for himself," Alfred said.

"What's wrong with just writing _I'm sorry_?" Jen asked.

"It has fewer words that rhyme with it?" Blake shook his head. "I better fingerprint it just in case he got careless."

"Fingerprint what?" Bruce quietly shut the door to the garage. Jen jumped at the sound of his voice and he silently crossed the kitchen to see what they were clustered around. Cold rage poured off of him like radiation as a blank mask settled over his features when he saw the green. "Where did that come from?" he demanded.

Jen moved behind Selina. Blake answered him in a normal tone of voice. "It was tied to the gate when I brought Jen home." Hopefully that would make Jen see there was nothing to fear.

Bruce silently read the text. His next words were frosty. "Alfred, what did we do with that proposal to electrify the gate?" He turned from the island and headed toward Alfred's office.

"I thought you decided against that security feature?" Alfred's concerned look followed Bruce.

"That was before!" The shout was almost down to the level of Batman's growl and Jen jumped again. Bruce vanished into Alfred's office.

Selina strode after him with her belly in the lead. "You need to dial it back before Stephanie sees you." Alfred followed them. 

The door to the office closed and Jen turned to Blake. "I'll be hiding in my room, trying to study, okay, bye." She practically ran out the door to the back stairs.

Blake sighed before picking up the card and the bagged ribbon. He didn't hold out high hopes for any forensic evidence, but he carried the items down to the Batcave. Sure enough, no fingerprints on the card or the ribbon. He scraped off a sample of the smudges for the mass spectrometer and started running it. The argument was still going on behind the office door when he passed through the kitchen on the way to sample the gate bars. 

Alfred was back in the kitchen when he returned. "Supper at your usual time, Master Blake?"

"Yeah, thanks, Alfred."

He found Bruce inside the cave's forensic lab, created under the foundation arches of the mansion. The older man wasn't running any other forensic tests or photographing the card, but leaned over it and focused on the words. "You found something for the mass spec?"

"I think it's just residue from the gate." Blake set the comparative sample on the table next to the machine. "So when is the electrician coming out?"

"Selina vetoed it, vehemently after Alfred told the story how Rachel and I hung on the gate to wait for him to come back from the store. We agreed to have a third party with experience in children's security look over the grounds for any holes we may have missed. No fingerprints?"

"None and the police haven't had any luck tracing his stationary. But the camera works on the Tumbler. I'll be sure to park somewhere conspicuous tonight."

"The riddle must have something to do with what the Riddler's planning, but I don't see how the beggar is the drowned man's sister leads to him discovering Batman's identity."

Blake frowned over a begging sister as a target for any crime. "Nuns who help the homeless, maybe? There are a few orders in Gotham; I'll add them to the patrol route tonight." He sat at the normal-sized computer terminal and accessed a search to get the locations and plot a map.

"I wanted to give her a normal life, not one targeted by madmen. I shouldn't have married her."

Blake whirled back around. Bruce didn't look up from the green card that covered the whole table. He had never seen such bleak heartbreak on anyone's face, much less Bruce's. He liked it better when Bruce was furious instead. "If you want her to kick your ass while pregnant, go repeat that to Selina."

"This Riddler is after her because of me." Bruce's calm mask slid over his features, but his hazel eyes smoldered.

"The Riddler targeted her because of Batman, and luckily he's too busy proving how smart he is to realize you are one and the same. But that poem sounds like he's going to leave the Wayne family alone now, so Selina's safe and won't become a widow because you won't live long enough to divorce her." Blake crossed his arms over his chest.

"You're that certain of the outcome." Bruce's hands went into his pants pockets.

"You didn't see what happened to her when she thought you were dead."

Bruce flinched when that hit home.

But Blake wasn't finished. "I don't think you realize what effect Batman has had on Gotham City because you're so busy not accepting thanks for what you had to do. I still have officers who gave me grief for asking about Batman apologizing for it. The reason Gordon chased the Feds out so fast wasn't because we didn't need them, but how they almost got clobbered talking ugly about Gotham's vigilantes. The entire department has fallen in with Gordon's stance: Batman saved Gotham City, end of story. And that's just GCPD. I haven't told you about how regular citizens treat Nightwing because he was Batman's sidekick."

Bruce didn't say anything, but the smoldering in his eyes banked to a more thoughtful stare.

The computer beeped behind Blake. "Don't throw away Selina and yours happiness because a jealous shit wants to piss all over Batman's hero status." Blake turned back to the computer and studied the route it had come up with.

"I won't do that to Selina." Bruce said quietly before pulling a camera from the wall cabinet. "I'll finish documenting this so you can drop it off to Gordon tonight. You know how Alfred is if you skip a meal."

"Right." Blake added Police Headquarters as the first stop to the route and then headed to the elevator upstairs. He wouldn't have time to warn Selina or Bruce that Jen figured it out before patrol. Frankly, they all needed the time to calm down. He'd give Jen back up tomorrow when he'd make her tell them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! Don't overdose on turkey.


	34. Chapter Thirty-Four

Her cell phone chimed that a new email just arrived. Jen dropped her notes on her bedroom desk, flung herself onto the bed, and picked it up off the night stand charging station. Study group for Intro Statistical Reasoning 7:30 tonight @ Business Library Meeting Room A. The lock screen covered the email message and showed the time 6:45 p.m. 

"Thanks for the notice, people." She chewed on her bottom lip. The trains weren't running this late yet, so somebody would have to drive her back to campus and pick her up. She didn't want to ask Alfred. She had skipped supper because she didn't want to deal with angry Bruce knowing what his secret was, but Alfred had brought her a tray without her asking for one. He was already settling down for the night and that would just be mean. And she sure didn't want to ask Bruce. That left not going or asking Selina. And she really needed help studying.

She found Selina downstairs in the study sitting at the desk. Bruce and Stephanie were on the fancy blue and gold couch with a puzzle map of the United States. She took a deep breath. _Bruce has no reason to yell at me. I didn't kidnap Selina._ Selina set down the paper blueprints as Jen marched to the desk. Her words ran together in a nervous rush. "I need a ride to campus, a study group decided to meet for the final I'm really worried about so I should get it on that."

"We need to get you a car." Selina leaned back and pressed her hand against her belly.

"You are the most generous sister in the whole world, but that won't get me there tonight."

"I don't fit behind a steering wheel right now. What class is this study group for?"

"Intro to Statistical Reasoning."

Selina blinked. "Gesundheit."

"I'll take you, Jen." Bruce stood and set Stephanie on her feet.

"Can I go?" Stephanie asked.

"You better stay home and keep me company," Selina said. "Bring your puzzle here."

Jen swallowed hard and reminded herself that Selina wouldn't have let Bruce in their lives if he would hurt them. "I'll get my stuff." She found Bruce already in the Lamborghini when she reached the garage. "Thanks for the ride."

"I don't mind helping you." The car slid down the driveway, kicking up dust. "I didn't know you didn't drive."

Boy, that hurt her head. Batman gave a damn about her transportation and clueless Bruce never noticed how she had to catch rides. But Selina could play a ditzy socialite too and Jen knew she wasn't. Maybe Bruce wanted to talk. "I never needed to learn while we lived in the city."

"Public transportation is more reliable in city limits. Still not enough passengers to expand the Red Line's hours of operation out here, no matter how hard I keep pushing for it. But Selina knows how to drive."

"She promised to teach me, but with her jobs and everything that's happened since, she hasn't had a chance." It was okay that Selina hadn't done that after she made Magdalene Kyle disappear and put Jen in school and married a man who didn't care that Jen lived with them.

The car sped over the Queens Bridge and with the lack of traffic it seemed like they were flying. "I can teach you."

"You don't have to."

"I want to." Bruce smiled. "Either it'll be a chance to laugh when Alfred says I'm doing it all wrong and takes over or good practice for when Stephanie and Tara are old enough for lessons."

Jen grinned. "Don't forget about Timmy. His parents will be out of town when it's time to teach him to drive." Bruce chuckled. "Alfred taught you?"

"He taught Rachel and me. Wayne Manor has enough roads to practice on. Get a driver's manual this week and we'll start after your finals are done."

Maybe John was right and Bruce wasn't mad over what she said. And love made people vicious--she remembered what Selina did to rescue her and the rest of the victims of the ring--and he did love Selina, so it made sense he was angry over this Riddler hurting his wife. But Jen wasn't used to anyone being nice to her unless Selina made them. "Just like that?"

"Unless you'd rather move back to the penthouse instead of getting a license."

"That place is too lonely without everyone there. After finals is fine, great even."

"Good, where is your study group meeting?" Bruce turned the car onto the bridge that led straight into Hudson U's campus on South Channel Island.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket. "The library inside the Business College, Meeting Room A. Just drop me off where you usually do. I better call you for a pick up?"

Bruce nodded. "I can kill time at Wayne Enterprises on paperwork."

"Okay. So who is Rachel? I don't remember meeting her at any of the parties." She stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

The good humor wiped away from Bruce's face. "She was my best friend until she died nine years ago."

"I'm sorry." Why couldn't she ever end a conversation before she ate her foot? And it was going so well too, now he would get mad at her again.

"It's all right." He pulled over to the curb in front of the Business College. "Selina knows the whole story. It's not a secret." He managed a wan smile. "Call me when you're done."

"I will, thanks." She hugged her books to her chest and ran up the steps into the building. All the lights were still on, but without the press of people who were typically here during the day made her feel like she was in the middle of a haunted house. She shook her shoulders to dislodge that feeling. _Stress is spooking my brain._

The Milton B. Finger Business Library's doors were on the right side of the lobby. There was a group clustered around a round table near the window, but she didn't recognize anyone from her classes. Meeting Room A was in the back of the building. She pulled out her phone while she walked past the tiny, closed-in cubicles for private study space. 7:20 p.m., even if she was the last one here, she wasn't late. They should think about how not all students live on campus. She'd remind them that the time to put a study group together was right after the last lecture met.

She opened the unlocked door to an empty room. The long rectangular tables were pushed together to form a U open to a blank whiteboard. If they moved locations, they should have written where they were going on it. "What--" she started to say loud enough to get kicked out of any library, but a hand pressed a wet cloth over her mouth and nose while another arm wrapped around her and pinned her arms and books to her chest. She thrust her heel down for the top of his foot just like Selina taught her. He twisted his foot away from hers. The sweet smell filled her nostrils. Her arms and legs hung heavy and her text books and phone fell to the floor as the room went dark.

* * *

Gordon adjusted his new office chair. They had moved into the repaired Police Headquarters Monday and two days later, he was still finding little things to shift around. At least he hoped it was just moving-in adjustment. Something in his gut had felt off since he started his shift. He set Babs' high school senior portrait next to his desk lamp. Montoya knocked on his open door before entering. He smiled. "Good work tying those bank robberies back to Crane."

"Thank you, sir. What's the situation for the Batsignal alert?"

He had worked out protocols for the use of the Batsignal with Nightwing weeks ago when the vigilante unveiled the repaired light moved to the roof of Police Headquarters from the Major Crimes Unit Building where he had first set it up a decade ago. The cell phone communication between Dispatch and Gordon personally was still available, but when the police had an emergency that needed vigilante involvement, they would turn on the flood light and Nightwing would confer with them. The citizens and criminals would get hope and fear from the signal. But that emergency had to be vetted through Gordon, the deputy commissioner who he needed to promote, or Lieutenant Stephens of MCU and the entire department knew that. Nothing had been brought to Gordon's attention. He pushed away from his desk. "Roof now, Detective."

Montoya fell in step behind him as they cleared the corners up the short flight to the roof from his top floor office. Hiding places were not available on the wide open roof, but they went around the access shed and the flood light with the metal Batman symbol against the glass to double check before returning to the wrapped box sitting in front of the light.

The bright green box looked to be two feet wide, two feet across, and two feet high. Its separate lid was tied down with purple ribbon topped with a huge bow. Question marks in different shapes and sizes were printed on the green wrapping paper. "Sir, was there ever a time when this job was normal?" Montoya holstered her weapon.

"You don't want to know what was normal when I started on the force." Gordon frowned at the package. "We need a forensic tech."

There was another footfall behind them. They whirled around and Nightwing dropped off the parapet. "What's wrong, Commissioner?" He held a large green card in one hand.

"Our riddling friend left a present." Gordon gestured at the box. "He turned on the Batsignal."

"He left a message for Mrs. Wayne earlier today." Nightwing passed him the oversized card. "No forensic evidence on it."

Gordon took the card but didn't try to read it by the flood light. "The Riddler threatened her again?"

"Actually, it said he would leave the Wayne family alone." Nightwing knelt next to the box with a black light flashlight.

Montoya's hands hit her hips. "He thinks she's Catwoman; did he finally remember what Catwoman did to Bane?"

"Maybe. No fingerprints or wires connected to the lid." Nightwing pulled the bow loose and lifted the lid. Gordon and Montoya looked over his shoulders at the contents. A computer circuit board was lying between two wooden stands held up eight rods of grey, yellow, blue, and green wooden balls in rows of four that were twisted in a spiral and held at their angles by two white plastic strands going through the end balls.   
  


Nightwing flipped over the lid. "Nothing written. This is all we get? It doesn't even rhyme."

"Is this supposed to be an easy clue or a hard one?" Montoya asked.

Gordon twitched his moustache. "I, for one, do not want to give the Riddler the idea he needs to challenge us."

Nightwing lifted the circuit board by the metal section that slotted into the rear of a computer. "This is made by Genucore." He shifted the part so they saw the logo printed on the green plastic. "Does that company do anything with DNA?"

"Don't know," Montoya answered. "But why included two models of it if they do?"

"Why send a note to Mrs. Wayne that he won't bother her again?" Gordon shook his head.

Nightwing set the circuit board back into the box. "I'll take this for further forensics and I'll check on Genucore, see what they do that the Riddler would be interested in."

"Bring it back as soon as you're done." Gordon turned off the flood light's switch.

Montoya frowned at him as Nightwing swung away with the box. "With all due respect, Commissioner, we should keep the evidence left here."

"Another reason we set up the Batsignal here was to draw the Riddler out, Detective. Let's see if we have a better picture from the security cameras."


	35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Nightwing stowed the items carefully into the Tumbler before calling Bruce. "You ever have any dealings with Genucore?"

"No, not with it or Genutech. Why?"

"Has Selina?"

"I just dropped Jen off at Hudson U, so I can't ask her. Why?"

"The Riddler dropped off a computer part at the Batsignal tonight. Genucore made it. I don't know if that's the whole clue or if he hid something that you can only see with a computer."

"So that worked. I'll meet you at the Bunker and look at it."

"Right, thanks." Nightwing signed off and turned the Tumbler to the Sheal Docklands. He beat Bruce to the satellite cave under the Wayne Enterprises shipping yard, so he pulled up Genucore in an Internet search while he set the clues on the table. He read how they were a sister company of Genutech and located its office building in the South Point neighborhood on Uptown Island when the lift rumbled up.

Bruce walked into the Bunker. "He wrapped it?"

Nightwing pointed to the bagged ribbon. "And even put a bow on it. Two DNA models and the circuit board inside, no bad poetry."

Bruce pulled on a pair of latex gloves before removing the circuit board from the wrapped box. "It's a motherboard for starters, but Genucore builds them."

"A motherboard runs a computer, right?"

"Right. I'll put together an unconnected system to see what the board does. You want to go to their offices?"

"I'm expecting another death trap, but the Riddler's pointing for me to go there." Nightwing waved at the evidence and the forensic kit Bruce opened. "You're okay with this?"

"We need to catch him and keep him caught. Get going." Bruce focused on the circuit board and didn't look up as the Tumbler left. Nightwing wasn't fooled. As soon as he reached the Genucore building, Bruce would be watching through the goggles.

Genucore rented one small office building in South Point. According to the blueprints on file with the city, this facility manufactured their experimental circuit boards here on three floors in the center of the building. The boards they sold to computer manufactures were built overseas. The rest of the building was dedicated to administrative and marketing for the whole company. No heat signatures registered to the Tumbler's sensors as he circled the building before parking. None of the doors showed the telltale marks Selina and police training told him to look for.

The lockpick gun Selina and Lucius Fox added to the index finger of his right glove unlocked the fire escape door faster than he could with regular lockpicks. Her tool found the alarm code and entered it into the alarm panel.

"Site rep?" Bruce's voice asked in his ear.

"I'm not seeing any signs of a break-in."

"Did you check all the entrances before entering?"

"I checked all the doors. There are no heat signatures inside. But we never found signs of forced entry at the landmarks either." He opened the fire escape door into the lobby and scanned their tasteful choices in decorating. The only things green were the potted plants in the corners of the room and bracketing the reception desk. "Okay, I'm going to their security room for an overview of the building."

"It's the first door on the left behind the reception desk," Bruce said.

Nightwing had memorized the location of the security room on the drive, but bit back his automatic retort. If this gave Bruce an outlet for the threat he felt the Riddler was, Nightwing would accept the help gratefully. The alarm panel tool bypassed the keycard swipe and he slipped into the room with multiple monitors set on a counter.

Each one's screen was subdivided into four views from different cameras on a floor. All the time stamps were current and none of the rooms showed any mazes or anything out of place. "What the hell did he do here?"

"The motherboard is blank," Bruce answered. "Check the executive floor. If the Riddler is interested in corporate espionage, what to take would be up there."

"Right." Nightwing swept the elevator for signs of tampering. Finding none, he rode to the top floor. The door slid open into a reception area with an infrared beam across it directly in front of the elevator doors. "Just one and not a grid? That's not normal security."

"Hold on." He heard Bruce typing on a keyboard. "I'm in their security details. They don't have an infrared grid on the executive floor; it's four floors down in the labs."

"Well, Admiral Ackbar, looks like we've found the Riddler's trap." Nightwing found the receiver of the beam and followed the wire up along the wall. "He put this up in a hurry. He didn't even try to hide the wires at all." The wire led to a bundle of plastic cloth fastened to the acoustic tile ceiling. "Would explosives be that light?"

"Most likely not an explosive, but I recommend triggering it from a distance."

"Right." Nightwing leaped over the beam without disrupting it and crouched a few feet away from the bundle. He tossed the largest Batarang into the beam.

The bundle expanded down and out into a banner. "Wrong turn again, Masked Man" was printed on the white plastic in green and purple letters. "Damn it," he muttered.

"So the real clue is these DNA models," Bruce said. "Maybe he put the polynucleotide spheres together as a code."

And it had to tie back to the drowned man riddle from the poem left on the gate. The Riddler had no reason to give it unless it had something to do with the crime. "The beggar is the sister, Genucore is the sister company of Genutech, matching DNA; he's after Jen!"

"I left her on Hudson's campus. Call her; tell her I'm on my way." Bruce signed off by killing his microphone, but Nightwing didn't notice as he slid the nearest window open and fired the grapple gun.

No green messages on the Tumbler. He used the onboard computer to put the call through to Jen's cell. Her voicemail picked up. "Jen, this is John. I need you to get somewhere safe with a bunch of people around. Bruce is coming to get you. The Riddler's clues point to you. Don't go anywhere alone." The voicemail limit kicked in and he saved the message. "Computer, send text message to same number. Text message: you are in danger from the Riddler. Get somewhere safe. End message."

Bruce would beat him to South Channel Island. The Lamborghini didn't have the armor the Tumbler did to slow it down. Nightwing hoped Bruce would beat the Riddler there too.

* * *

Selina stretched and rubbed her lower back. The Braxton Hicks contractions were stronger tonight than they had ever been. Luckily, Stephanie dropped off to sleep so quickly she didn't notice when Selina lost her breath and couldn't finish reading the story. She paced the master bedroom, but it really didn't help. She glanced at the Wayne Manor blueprints and map of the grounds that she had moved up here from the study. Seven generations of Waynes had lived here and no one had drawn an underground map, including Bruce.

Her cell phone rang before she could finish that thought and the caller ID showed Jen's picture. "Study group over and you're on your way home?"

"I'm afraid all the studying in the world won't improve Jennifer's situation any."

She recognized the male voice and forgot about her discomfort as her fury ignited. "You son of a bitch, you said you'd leave us alone!"

"No, Pussycat, I said I'd leave the royalty of Gotham alone," the Riddler said. "That's your husband, little orphan Annie, and you thanks to the holy state of matrimony along with your future offspring. Your sister is not on that list."

She should have seen that. Too late now. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want! Come to your concrete cage, Catwoman. Otherwise Jennifer will become the caged bird who sings. For a while at least." The Riddler hung up and her cell phone made an old-fashioned modem dialing sound before ASCII characters filled the screen. She couldn't make it go to any other screens.

She threw open the bedroom door. "Alfred!" He hadn't changed for bed and reached her as she reached the receiver for the house phone. "See if you can call Bruce." The receiver made the same modem sound.

"There appears to be something wrong with my phone, Missus Selina." He held up the same garbled screen.

"The Riddler's cut off our phones somehow. Get Stephanie, we can't leave her here."

Alfred blocked her path to the master suite. "You cannot face that ruffian, not in your condition."

"He has Jen." His resolve faltered under her quiet tone. "I left her behind once and she almost died. The Riddler has no reason to keep her alive if I abandon her now."

"We can go to the police."

Selina shook her head. "He wants me at Bane's cage. We can't take the chance of him finding out why Bane targeted Bruce. And the police don't need to figure out I am Catwoman. Go get Stephanie."

He ceded the argument and turned to Stephanie's bedroom. Selina went straight to the jewelry safe in the dressing room. The pearls went around her neck and she hoped this tracker worked underground. Next she unlocked the drawer with her Catwoman gear in it. She tightened the mask around her eyes and carried the coiled whip in her hand.

Alfred had Stephanie wrapped in a quilt and carried the sleeping girl propped against his shoulder. "Can we contact Master Wayne or Nightwing through email?"

"Not with our phones."

He nodded. "The tablet I use for shopping lists is powered down in my office. I never used it as a phone."

She darted into the room when they entered the kitchen. The WayneTech tablet sat on the corner of his desk. "We'll turn it on inside city limits. I don't know how the Riddler's messing up the phones but that should help if it's location based." She opened the back door of the Rolls for him, went around the car, and opened her own door.

He laid Stephanie on the back seat and tucked the quilt around her before settling himself behind the steering wheel. "Where to, Mrs. Wayne?"

"O'Brien Street subway station. Hopefully, I can still get in through there." She knew Lucius and Bruce had plans for the space under Wayne Enterprises, but she didn't know if they had started construction work. Damn, going in blind was always a bitch.

* * *

Bruce had avoided the major traffic out now that the curfew was lifted and had sped down clear streets well over the posted speed limits. He reduced that by the ten miles-per-hours when he reached Hudson University's campus, though pedestrians shouldn't be walking the campus this late.

He screeched to a halt outside the Business College building and turned off the Aventador before charging up the steps into the building. A lanky young man turned from the vending machine but he wasn't green so Bruce ignored him. The library had the donor's name above its double doors on the right. He pushed inside and scanned the room.

A group at a table near the windows was packing and looked at him, but Jen wasn't with them. None of them wore green, so he dismissed them. A sign labeled Meeting Room A pointed to the rear of the shelf-filled room.

Meeting Room A's door had a glass pane inserted into it and showed the room was dark. He threw open the door and felt for the light switch. The fluorescent lights clicked on one after another with a hum.

Jen's textbook, notebook, and phone were discarded on the floor inside the door. Bruce's anger flared. Jen was an innocent and as helpless as Stephanie, at least Selina could defend herself. He gathered the books and pulled out his own phone. ASCII symbols filled the screen. He checked Jen's. It acted the same way, some kind of virus that disabled the phones.

The Riddler's clues pointed to Jen and Jen was now missing, presumably against her will. The Riddler's next step would be to make his demand to Selina. Since their phones were disabled, he probably made a meeting demand and then sabotaged the phones so she couldn't call for reinforcement. Selina would face the Riddler for Jen's sake and to protect Batman. Hopefully she was also looking for a way to contact him and Nightwing en route, but Bruce felt less sure of that conclusion. She needed backup, but she didn't think she did. He had to protect her.

But where was the meeting? Selina had always been convinced the Riddler wouldn't attack the Manor. He agreed with that assessment. The Riddler would use a location to give himself superiority over Selina psychologically, like the elaborate maze at Willowwood. Where in Gotham would the Riddler find that again for Catwoman?

Bruce started reciting the Riddler's clues as he went back to the Aventador. "In a concrete cage," he muttered as he put the key in the ignition. That was a specific detail. If the Riddler had wanted a detail to contrast with gilded cage, wouldn't iron or steel be a better word choice? But he wanted Selina to realize he knew she was Catwoman. "He found Bane's cage."

The car roared to life and he headed south to Midtown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Snort* Way back in March I was dealing with Christmas in Gotham. Now it's Christmas and I'm dealing with the Riddler in the summer in Gotham. :p Everyone have a safe and happy holiday!


	36. Chapter Thirty-Six

"Unable to connect. Firewall engaged," the computer repeated for the third time. Nightwing didn't tell it to dial Bruce's number again. Something was wrong with the phone if the computer's firewall kept responding.

"Incoming email," the computer said.

Nightwing pulled onto a side street. "Display."

Riddler has Jen. Follow pearls. The email was from Selina's account with the Foundation. But what did 'follow the pearls' mean?

"Computer, display GPS locators on objects." He had guessed right. The computer displayed a list of vehicles, jewelry, and other things he didn't recognize. A strand of pearls was on the list. He highlighted the frequency. "Computer, trace this frequency."

A dot appeared on the screen and the lines of Gotham City drew around it. The pearls were already on O'Brien Street. He turned the Tumbler and headed to Graham Bridge.

* * *

Selina was glad Bane had his tunnels built tall enough to walk upright through and designed the portion from the subway station to this arena cistern to be dry. However, she had a huge rant to give both Bruce and Lucius Fox about the lack of security down here. It probably wouldn't have kept the Riddler out, but being this wide open just invited trespassers.

She lifted her night-vision goggles as she looked over the arena where Bane broke the Bat nine months before. Water still churned down the waterfall into the concrete channel in the floor and gushed out of sight. The hole Bane had blown in the ceiling was repaired with an elevator cage large enough for a Tumbler to fit in. The metal walkways and stairs were still in place.

Movement behind the waterfall caught her eye. A green suit paced up on the balcony where Bane had had his command center. There was no way to sneak past him to the side tunnel where the cage was, so she gripped the whip tighter and avoided the puddles as she went up.

A smaller cage was assembled in front of the side tunnel opening. The pile of concrete and metal debris between Selina and the new cage told her someone had finished dismantling it. Jen was sprawled on the cot she and Bruce had shared, but the elaborate gate hadn't been reinstalled on this new version. She doubted the temporary fencing would hold it up.

The Riddler stopped between her and the open cage door. "I'm so glad you dropped the pretenses, Catwoman. Love the ears."

She didn't recognize him. His face seemed familiar under the green hat and purple mask, but she wasn't sure if it was from meeting this asshole before or from staring at the police sketch countless times. Right now, it didn't matter and she didn't care. "I'm here for my sister. Get out of my way." She dropped the coils of the whip before cracking it.

"I'm afraid I can't." The Riddler lifted a thick remote control with his left hand. "I rigged up a pressure detonator and attached it to enough explosives to level the building above if she moves off that cot. So consider it time to chat."

Selina twitched the whip, but didn't crack it. "Fine. You know how the ancient Egyptians removed brains when making mummies? I've always wanted to pull someone's brain out their nose. Thanks for volunteering."

"Now that's just hostile. One little name and I'll leave your family alone. You and Wayne can go back to whatever game you're pulling on the whole city."

"I told you before we weren't playing any games, Nigma." Bruce stepped out of the shadows of the side tunnel and moved around the cage toward Selina.

"This love nest is quite the maze. How many more holes does it have?" The Riddler sneered at Bruce. "Who else will show up for this tête-à-tête?"

"Bruce." She bit back her question of why he was here when she sent the call for help to Nightwing to keep him from doing something stupid like show up here. The Riddler wouldn't let him leave now. "Wait, Nigma? The FBI idiot who tried to arrest me?"

Nigma doffed his hat. "Someone's not as stupid as the tabloids make him out to be. So level with me, what are you getting out of this? Knowing Catwoman's secrets, you know what happened here. The bun in her oven isn't yours. Loyalty to Batman's memory didn't stop you from marrying his widow."

Bruce smirked. "There's a riddle for you; what do I owe Batman?"

"I'll stick to my original one, thank you very much. Who was the Batman?" Selina glared. "You are betting that Jennifer won't move upon waking up, that's gutsy. This handy device will turn off the pressure detonator as soon as my riddle is answered. Who was Batman?"

Neither Bruce nor Selina uttered a word. The falling water didn't mask the sound of the grapple gun firing. Nightwing vaulted over the waist-high railing and landed behind the Riddler, not that there was an exit that way.

Nigma turned so his back was to the fence. "Let's give the understudy a turn. The question is who was Batman?" Nightwing stood in a guarded stance. "Nothing?" Nigma asked. "Catwoman, give the Boy Wonder back his tongue."

"Give up, Riddler," Nightwing growled out.

"On second thought, take it back again. He doesn't think beyond clichés." Nigma shook his head. "But I am impressed. It took over a month to develop that virus to disable your phones and not the whole city and you still found a way to communicate around it. But you won't give me a straight answer." He frowned as he turned his back on Nightwing. "I guess that makes it Jennifer's turn. Wakey-wakey, Miss Kyle." He grabbed the fence and rattled it.

Jen flinched on the cot and flailed her arm. "What?" she slurred.

"Don't move, Jen!" Selina yelled.

Jen froze with her hand in the air. "Not moving. Why am I not moving?"

"Just stay calm, Miss Kyle. And don't lift up," Nightwing said.

Jen turned her head to see the front of the cage past her feet. "Selina? Where are we? What's going on?"

"Your sister doesn't want you to set off the detonator you're lying on." Nigma waved at Jen when she turned her head to look at him.

"The Lucky Charms guy put me on a bomb?" Jen turned back to Selina.

"Yes, stop moving so much," Selina answered.

"Feel caught up now?" Nigma interrupted. "Good, time for you to join our little game of Truth or Dare. They've all dared, maybe you'll pick truth. What will it be?"

"You want to blow me up? What did I ever do to you?"

Nigma hit the fence with his fist. "I'm the one who asks the questions down here. And the question of the hour is who was Batman? Tick tock, Jennifer. What's your final answer?"

Panic crossed Nightwing's face before he hid it, but Nigma's attention was split between Jen and Selina, so he missed it. Selina didn't reveal she had seen it. Why was Nightwing panicking? All Jen had to say was the truth that she didn't know.

"God, Selina, why won't you tell him so he'll leave us alone!"

_Jen shouldn't have said that._ Selina stared at Nigma, not letting her surprise slip out.

"Yes, Selina, why won't you tell me?" Nigma asked. "You shared it with your darling sister, probably shared it with the man you married, why not me?"

"I never give bullies what they want," Selina answered.

"I resent that; I'm not a bully."

"Never giving the bullies what they want worked so well against Bane," Jen grumbled. "We were supposed to bug out together. That was always the plan."

Selina broke her gaze with Nigma and looked at Jen. Jen knew, that's why Nightwing looked panicked, but did she know she couldn't say? "It did work against Bane. And we can't trust this riddling fool."

"And I resent that. I gave you fair warning for everything I've done and ample opportunity for you to avoid it," Nigma said.

"You murdered a woman, kidnapped her, and now kidnapped and threatened her sister," Nightwing said. "Mrs. Wayne is right not to trust you."

"Shut it, kid, the grown-ups are talking."

"He's right," Bruce said.

Jen craned her neck to see Bruce at the other corner of the cage.

"You had your chance to answer, Wayne. And that attitude will blow us all up."

"Can we please have this discussion without me on the bomb?" Jen wailed.

Nigma tsked. "Why put her through this? You're her sister. And all you have to do is answer my question."

Selina planned to tell him to go to hell, but the pain in her pelvis stole her words away and it was all she could do to keep it from her face. And then Jen screamed. "Batman was Jean Paul Valley! Get me off this bomb please!"

Nigma's gaze whipped to Selina's face and the pain ebbed so she could widen her eyes. Her breathing was already erratic and she narrowed her glare. "Damn it, Jen! I never should have told you."

"I'm sorry, Selina," Jen whined, "but I don't want to blow up. Please."

Nigma flourished the remote and pressed a button on it. "I am a man of my word, bomb deactivated. Scamper away now if you please."

Jen gingerly rolled off the cot before bolting through the opening in the fencing behind Selina. Bruce spun her behind him as he moved closer. Selina popped the whip. It hit Nigma's hand sending the remote over Nigma's shoulder. Nightwing lunged forward and caught it.

"Ow!" Nigma rubbed the injured hand. "I let her go. That was completely uncalled for."

Selina shifted her stance, ignoring the renewed pain in her pelvis. "If you're so smart, riddle me this. How are you getting out of here?" She swung the whip.

Nigma caught it as his hand went under his green jacket. He reeled himself in and pressed a semi-automatic pistol against her baby bump. "With you, Catwoman."

Bruce inched forward. "Don't hurt her. I'll be your hostage."

The pain in her pelvis intensified before it ebbed away again, but as it ebbed Selina felt a gushing and her black knit pants grew wet between her legs.

"You're not nearly as appealing travel partner, Wayne. Now step back unless you want something to happen to Jean Paul's cuckoo."

"My water just broke!" Selina shouted, which happened to land right in Nigma's ear as he looked over shoulder at Bruce.

He stepped back, jerking the handgun away from her as he stared down. "What!"

Her fist holding the whip handle smashed into his jaw. He spun from the punch and landed against the cage's fencing. She backed up as Bruce pounced. 

Nightwing caught the handgun Bruce tossed his way. 

The second punch dropped the green-suited man to the floor. Bruce hauled Nigma up by his white, button-up shirt and punched him again. Nigma's eyes rolled back in his head. Bruce let him go and stepped back. "Good distraction," he said at Selina, even though his eyes stayed focused on the unconscious man. Nightwing crouched next to Nigma with a pair of handcuffs.

"I wish!" She pressed her hands and the whip against her stomach and breathed with the contraction.

Bruce's rage bled out of his eyes as he turned his controlled expression to her. Jen moved to Selina's side. "You're having the baby?"

"I'm not having her down here." She looked at Bruce and the cage behind him. "Bruce, please, not down here."

"I parked in the garage." Bruce's face cracked as it paled and she grabbed his offered arm. "Can you walk?"

"I can walk, but I can't fit into the Lambo anymore."

Nightwing hefted the cuffed Nigma over his shoulders. "I'll send Alfred to the Wayne Enterprises' building."

Jen moved to Selina's other side as they headed down the stairs. "Do the funny breathing."

"You're not my Lamaze coach." Selina breathed deeply. "In case I don't remember later, thank you."

Jen looked back up the stairs where Nightwing waited to bring Nigma down. "Bruce is family now. We don't abandon family," she said quietly. Bruce's head jerked to look at Jen around Selina. She continued, "But we need to have a serious talk about your taste in men."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For all the John Blake haters, stop and think. He could have been Jean Paul Valley, i.e. AzBat. Boy, I can hear the Internet fan fight from the alternate universe where they used that idea. I own the novelization of _Knightfall_ , and my take away from that story is to feel WAY more sorry for Tim Drake and Jean Paul Valley. Jean Paul wasn't stable enough to be Batman, and editorial thought that was a more compelling story than giving Dick the cowl and poor Tim nearly ran himself ragged trying to keep Gotham's criminals and citizens safe from AzBat. So color me happy we got Robin John Blake in the Nolanverse.
> 
> Now I'm sitting back and waiting for someone to argue with my math. ;)


	37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 167

Gordon was ecstatic to arrest Edward Nigma, but less happy about how the former FBI agent had kidnapped Jen Kyle before his capture, so Nightwing had to tell him that Selina had gone into labor so he didn't go to the Manor right then to get Jen's statement. That kicked in the Commissioner's fatherhood memories and he said statement time could wait. Nightwing delivered the forensic evidence to Montoya before finally parking the Tumbler in the bunker, changing into street clothes, and Blake driving the MV Agusta F4 motorcycle into the city. He stopped at an open fast food restaurant and bought a dozen breakfast sandwiches as rosy streaks filled the sky above the buildings. He tucked the bagged food inside the zipped leather jacket as he drove to the East Eighteenth Street Clinic.

Stephanie was wrapped in a quilt and stretched out on the loveseat couch in the waiting room lobby. Jen sat in a plastic chair with metal legs next to the little girl's head. A stack of Styrofoam coffee cups next to her foot reached her mid-calf. She looked at him when he rustled the food bag. "The Lucky Charms guy's locked up?"

"The Riddler's locked up." He sat next to her and handed her a biscuit sandwich. "The Commissioner needs a statement on your kidnapping, but said it could wait until after the baby."

"Commissioner Gordon is an understanding man." Jen chewed her bite and swallowed before adding. "Alfred went looking for a store. He wanted to cook, but there wasn't anything in the staff kitchen."

Blake raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised he didn't go back there to supervise."

"Doc Leslie wouldn't let him, though he didn't argue about it too much after Selina's bitchin' at Bruce that he had to be pregnant for the next kid." Jen grinned impishly as she finished her biscuit.

"I'm glad I missed that." The wax paper around his sandwich crackled. "The name you gave Nigma?"

"Was a character in a porno Maggie made."

"Maggie? Who's Maggie?" He knew he was tired, but that name rang no bells for him.

"They didn't tell you? Selina or Bruce, 'cause I'm pretty sure Bruce knows; he's Batman after all." Blake shook his head. "It's a long story," she started. The clinic's outer door opened and she pressed her lips together.

Blake stood to help Alfred with the door and grocery bags the older man was laden with. "As long as you didn't set someone up, we're good."

"Nope, he's fictional. I wouldn't do that, well, not to someone who didn't deserve it."

Alfred relinquished a plastic bag to Blake. "Commissioner Gordon has the Riddle-man?"

"And clear footage of him leaving the last clue package at the Batsignal. Between his kidnapping Selina and Jen and murdering Harriet Allnut, Nigma won't get out for a long time."

"Nigma? That's the wacko's name?" Jen asked.

"Yeah, Edward Nigma," Blake pushed opened the swinging door to the back with his shoulder. Alfred chuckled with a head shake as he passed the younger man. Blake was too tired to guess what Alfred found funny, so he didn't question it as he yawned and put the groceries on the break room's counter.

Jen and Alfred both left him alone after they ate. He sat on the loveseat beyond Stephanie's feet since it was the only furniture in the waiting room with cushions and leaned his head against the wall when he dozed off. He jerked awake when a small hand pressed against his chest. He blinked at Stephanie who pushed her quilt over his lap. "Thank you," he said.

"Welcome." She leaned back. "This is where Doc Leslie works."

"That's right."

"Are you hurt?"

"No, Selina." Stephanie's blue eyes widened and Blake shook his head. "Not hurt. Doc Leslie's helping the baby come out."

"Oh. Daddy's with them?"

"Yeah." He yawned widely and squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the waiting room's windows. His room back at the Manor had blackout shades for this time of the day that he didn't want to know the number of.

Jen left the rest room. "You would wake up while I was peeing. Go back to sleep, John. Come on, sweetie, let's get you dressed." Stephanie slid off the loveseat.

Blake pulled the quilt to his chin when he leaned back again. The next thing he knew after that was the swinging door crashing into the wall. He jumped up and the quilt pooled at his feet. "Selina's fine, they're both fine, come see our daughter," Bruce shouted. He scooped Stephanie up in his blue-gowned arms. "Come meet your new baby sister."

"Okay." Stephanie giggled and tugged on the medical gown draped over his suit.

They trooped behind Bruce down the hall to one of the overnight rooms. Selina lay back on the propped-up hospital bed looking exhausted but happy. Leslie Thompkins held the baby wrapped in a soft, pink blanket. "Sorry we screwed up having her in the Regency Room, Alfred." Selina smiled as Bruce set Stephanie down in a chair next to the bed.

"That never mattered, Missus Selina." Alfred took the infant with practiced ease. "And what is this beautiful young lady's name?"

Bruce blinked at the swaying older man. Leslie snorted. "How long have you known she was coming and that you had to put a name on the birth certificate?"

"I've been trying. Selina kept taking the baby name books away from me." He stripped off the medical gown.

"You wanted to make a pro and con list for every name starting with the A's," Selina smirked.

Blake leaned on the wall next to the door. "That's enough to thank the Riddler for providing something else to focus on."

"I know. I need to send him a fruit basket."

"Meanwhile, you don't have any names to put on the birth certificate." Leslie shook her head.

"They have been busy," Blake said.

"Don't give them an excuse for not naming my niece." Jen's frown shifted to a coo when Alfred put the infant in her arms.

"Her name is Helena," Selina said.

Bruce picked up Stephanie and set her on his lap after he sat in the chair. "After my great-great-great-aunt?"

"Her necklace started this whole thing, but I wanted to see her first." Selina smiled, "She's a Helena, all right."

Jen passed Helena to Stephanie and Bruce supported them both. "Hi Helena, I'm your big sister, Stephanie."

"Helena Magdalene," Bruce added as he glanced from Jen to Selina.

Jen's mouth fell open. "Bruce, are you sure? That's a name with a ton of baggage."

"She's a Wayne; baggage is a given." Bruce's eyes crinkled as he smiled at Jen.

"And if anyone questions us about it, we'll explain that we named her after the two baddest women we know of," Selina said. "It's perfect."

Jen's eyes watered as she sniffled through her beaming smile.

"How come she gets two names?" Stephanie looked up at Bruce. "I don't have two names."

"The second one is a middle name, so she doesn't get mixed up with all the other Helena's out there." Blake stifled his yawn.

"So what's my middle name?" Stephanie asked as Alfred took the baby from her lap.

"We were waiting to see if you wanted one," Selina said.

"I want one." Stephanie wrapped her arms around Bruce's neck. "Want one about Batman, Daddy."

"We have to think on that," Bruce answered.

Blake grinned, but it dropped away when Alfred turned the newborn to him. "I don't think--"

"She doesn't have cooties, John," Jen huffed.

"It's not that." Blake locked his arms as Alfred rested Helena in them and stepped back. "Kids at St. Swithin's were bigger than this when they got there." He looked down at Helena's small face under the white stocking cap. She wrinkled her nose and yawned, showing her gums. "Yeah, it's been a long night for everyone, kid."

"Indeed," Leslie said as she took Helena from him. "Out you lot and let this family rest. You can pick them up tomorrow."

"Hug Mommy." Stephanie reached for Selina, so Bruce stood and leaned her over the bed.

Selina hugged her. "Be good for Alfred, Aunt Jen, and Uncle John okay? We'll be home tomorrow." Stephanie nodded and Bruce passed her to Jen.

Blake was the last one out and Bruce stopped him. "Nigma's locked up?"

"You don't have to worry about him any more. Get some rest before Helena decides to show off her lungs." Blake patted the hand squeezing his shoulder as Bruce nodded and let him go.

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 168

Bruce looked over the hospital room one more time. Everything that had been brought to them was packed. Helena wore a lilac dress and surveyed the room from her car seat. He was unsure of the range of her eyesight, but she turned her head when she saw movement. He took out his phone and double checked his search. Nothing new had come up. "So what's your verdict on Bruna, Brucie, or Brucette?"

Selina glanced at him through the open bathroom door while she twisted her long, brown hair into a bun. "No and you knew it was a no before you asked me. Why don't you stop stalling and ask me the question you've been avoiding all morning looking for other options?"

He closed the browser window and tucked his phone into his jacket pocket. "I can't decide and I don't want to upset you."

"Why would I be upset?" She secured the bun against her head. "You told me before I had no reason to be jealous."

"You're the one who got me to the church, but you're the one who found Stephanie."

She closed her cosmetic bag. "But she didn't trust me or Nightwing until she saw the Bat-vehicles. Suck it up, take the compliment, and let her choose knowing I will intervene if the choice is Brucette." She handed him the bag and pulled him down for a kiss while his hands were occupied.

There was a knock on the door and she called them in while he recovered his breath. Blake entered. "Ready to go?"

"Almost." Selina swiped the lipstick off Bruce's lips.

"I thought Alfred was coming to get us," Bruce said as he packed Selina's cosmetic bag into the overnight suitcase.

"That was before." Blake held up his hand as they both straightened. "Before he called to cancel your meetings and other fun stuff. The word is out and people have been dropping by the Manor to see Helena."

"No one better be ill," Selina said. "She just made a whole day old an hour ago." She tucked a baby blanket around Helena.

"I didn't witness any coughing or sneezing, but otherwise they all seemed pretty intent on camping at the Manor until they see her. Jen and Stephanie made a tea party around it." Blake grabbed the luggage. "I had to switch cars at Wayne Enterprises to lose the paparazzi. Now I understand why the Brits do that balcony waving stuff."

Bruce picked up the baby carrier car seat with all eight pounds of Helena strapped in. "Let's get this over with before that seems like a good idea."

The Wayne Enterprises company car didn't draw any attention on the street or at Wayne Manor's gate. Considering how many cars were parked in the drive, small wonder the photographers wrote the sedan off as another set of visitors. Alfred met them in the kitchen. "Your guests are waiting in the east wing parlor. It's not as far from the master suite or the nursery as the first floor."

"Works for me," Selina said as she helped Bruce undo the straps around Helena. "I think I can give them an hour at the most."

"Give them what you can." Bruce cradled Helena against his shoulder and chest. "You and Helena's needs come first." Helena's fist curled against his throat.

"Do try to be polite to your guests, Master Wayne."

He wasn't feeling polite, but Selina was already heading up the back stairs, so he followed her without complaining. He didn't remember ever seeing this many people in the white and beige parlor beyond the drawing room. Jarvis Lorry and Commissioner Gordon stood next the window talking to each other. Douglas Fredericks and his wife Patricia sat on a sofa with Lucius Fox. An empty couch had been repositioned next to a circular marble-topped table that held the Nuna Leaf Curv baby bouncer. Babs Gordon and Anita Cruncher sat on the sofa with Jen next to the tea tray. Jerry Cruncher kept Stephanie balanced on top of a life-sized stuffed lion that shared the space before the fireplace with a teddy bear as tall as Bruce.

Selina stopped short when she saw the giant toys. "I don't remember those."

Jen giggled. "The Fredericks found out FAO Schwarz has reopened."

"And then we remembered we hadn't gotten Stephanie anything." Patricia Fredericks stood and approached Bruce and Helena.

"The lion is mine." Stephanie tugged on its mane. "Uncle John named him Aslan."

"Of course he did." Bruce set Helena in Mrs. Fredericks' arm and sat next to Selina on the empty sofa.

Mrs. Fredericks cooed at the baby. "Oh you precious little girl, oh yes you are. She has your eyes, Bruce."

"Better than my nose."

Anita leaned over the sofas' arms to address Selina. "We brought you diapers. You can never have too many diapers."

"You didn't have to," Selina said. Jen poured her a cup of tea and gave it to her.

"You don't want someone searching for an open store when the baby is screaming for a diaper change."

Mr. Fredericks chuckled. "That is the voice of never again experience."

"Don't let her chew on her fingers," Gordon offered. "A toddler is good at reaching their gag reflex."

Babs looked horrified as her father waved his fingers near Helena's face. "I made myself throw up?"

"No, that was your brother. You were our climber. You even got on top of the fridge." Helena grabbed Gordon's finger.

"Why?" Stephanie asked.

"I don't remember," Babs admitted.

"I got Ms. Kyle's statement and the Riddler won't be bothering you again. Your baby is beautiful. What's her name?"

"Helena Magdalene," Bruce answered.

"Unusual choice," Mr. Fredericks said.

"It suits her," Gordon said as he gently freed his finger from her grip. "Are you ready to go, Babs?"

"Yeah." She pulled an envelope from her purse and passed it to Selina. "The research you asked me for."

"Oh." Selina's eyebrows rose as she took the envelope. "Thank you."

"I'll walk you out," Jen offered.

Selina set the envelope next to her empty tea cup, but before Bruce could ask what research she had been doing, Mrs. Fredericks laughed airily. "I've been hogging this good girl all to myself. Lucius, do you want to hold her?"

"Certainly." Lucius grinned once he had Helena in his arms. "You are heavier than you look, Miss Helena."

"Mr. Fox!" Anita exclaimed.

"Now we know why you're still single," Selina smirked.

"In my defense, this is the only time in a woman's life it is safe to make that comment. How big is she?"

"Eight pounds," Selina answered, "and twenty-one inches long."

"Young Jerry was ten pounds. That all came from Jerry's family."

Jarvis Lorry moved to the tea tray and took a small sandwich. "Speaking of family, you need to update your will, Bruce. You have children to leave the Manor to now."

Selina looked at him. "Who did you leave it to before?"

"The city to turn it into an orphanage. See me next week and don't avoid it, please."

"Next week," Bruce said. Helena squirmed violently and cried. He jumped up and took her. "I think it's feeding time."

"That's my cue." Selina took Helena to her chest, pressing the envelope against the newborn's back. "It was lovely to see all of you and now we have to go."

Their company said good-bye, but took their time with Bruce and Stephanie before actually leaving. Alfred served the family lunch in the smaller breakfast room. "If anyone else shows up, we have all left the country. I don't care who it is," Bruce said.

"And the media outlets get the same story when they call for details about Miss Helena?" Alfred asked.

"Find out from Selina which charity needs the most cash and start a bidding war with the proceeds going to it. They want access to my family; they'll pay for it."

Jen scooted her chair closer to the table. "At least the camera nuts are staying off the doorbell."

"The guests came because they care, Miss Jen." Alfred set the plate of pasta in front of Bruce.

"They all think Selina and I wouldn't issue invitations in a week or two after Selina has rested."

"And whose fault is that because he never wants to entertain?" Alfred swept out of the room before Bruce answered.

"Nobody dissed Helena." Stephanie speared her ravioli.

"Someone was mean to you? When?" Bruce asked.

"A lady called me a charity case at the wedding party. Emma said she was jealous."

"Alfred got a list of people not to invite back for anything," Jen said.

"That's fine, but you let me or Mommy know too. No matter what's going on."

"Okay." Stephanie seemed unconcerned about the incident so Bruce dropped the subject. Hopefully, people would get over their snobbery and not treat his daughters differently.

They finished lunch and Bruce took Stephanie into the study. "We need to talk about your middle name." He sat her on top of the desk before he sat in the office chair. "There are no pretty girl names close to Bruce."

Her lower lip jutted out. "And I can't be Stephanie Batman."

He shook his head and reached for the picture shelf. "So I thought maybe you'd like to be named after someone important to me becoming Batman." He handed her the burnt photograph of his parents. "My mother's name was Martha."

"That's close to Helena's."

"You have a second choice." He helped her set the photography on the desk before reaching for the next frame.

"She's pretty."

"Her name was Rachel. Her mother worked here as the housekeeper, and she and Rachel moved in when Rachel and I were about your age. We were best friends from then on. She taught me the difference between revenge and justice, and that what you do defines who you are."

"How come she never visits?"

"A bad man killed her and made sure I couldn't save her. It made me sad for a long time, until I met Mommy and then you."

"We make you happy?"

"Very much, even when I'm grumpy and don't show it." He grinned at her.

She matched it. "Stephanie Rachel Wayne. Is it a secret name?"

"No, you can tell people you're named after my best friend." He set Rachel's photograph next to the framed image of Harvey Dent before replacing his parents' photograph next to Selina and Stephanie's picture on the shelf. "Let's go see if Mommy's awake so we can tell her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Martha, you got short-changed in my story as much as you did in the original trilogy. I wanted to show that Bruce accepted Selina's family as his by pairing Helena's name with one that was so evocative of their past for Selina and Jen, so we get Helena Magdalene. _The One Rule_ opens right after Bruce learns the truth about Rachel from Alfred and he's still reeling from it. So it made sense to have this scene to show Bruce has truly moved past Rachel's death and losing that dream of a normal life, despite how it still short-changes Martha. The Helena in the _Signs and Portents_ series will be named after you, Martha, I promise.
> 
> And now that Stephanie has her middle name, I can show off the family tree I made.  
>   
> 
> 
>  
> 
> I pulled most of the Wayne family members from the _Return of Bruce Wayne_ storyline but I had to tweak the generations since DC has added another one between Bruce and Judge Solomon Wayne of Underground Railroad and other fame since _Batman Begins_ was filmed and _Shadow of the Bat Volume 1 Number 45: Wayne Manor: Anatomy of a Murder_ was written. I was pleasantly surprised to see so many ancestors filled in, despite missing a few mothers along the way.
> 
> Head canon history story time (tweaked from the _Return of Bruce Wayne_ storyline): Darius Wayne was an American Revolutionary War hero along with his brother "Mad" Anthony Wayne. He was rewarded with the land grant forming Wayne Manor, and built a modest mansion that the family lived in until Charles Wayne constructed the Manor.
> 
> Judge Solomon Wayne added the elevator when he expanded the Manor into the Gothic Revival castle we see in _Batman Begins_. He and his brother Joshua were conductors on the Underground Railroad with their station in the cave under Wayne Manor. Joshua Wayne went missing November 5, 1860 and was presumed dead. Helena Wayne tried to enlist in the Union Army when the Civil War began but was discovered. In 1876, she helped establish the Bureau of Medical and Surgical Relief for the Out of Door Poor as part of Gotham General Hospital, one of the nation's first outpatient departments. Judge Wayne invested in real estate with the family's shipping company profits and was a leading force in modernizing Gotham City.
> 
> Alan Wayne established Wayne Shipping. Kenneth Wayne founded Wayne Chemicals, Silas Wayne founded WayneTech, and Patrick Wayne combined the three companies under Wayne Enterprises. Silas and Kenneth both joined the military during World War II and the Korean Way, and both died in them. Thomas Wayne never desired to be a business man like his father and uncles, so his mother pushed him to medical school.
> 
> If you have trouble reading the family tree at this resolution, here's a link to the file: [ http://www.bookwormlibrary.us/graphics/illustrations_story/batman_legacy/nolanverse_night_wayne_family_tree.png](http://www.bookwormlibrary.us/graphics/illustrations_story/batman_legacy/nolanverse_night_wayne_family_tree.png)


	38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 177

Stephanie pushed open the master bedroom door. Daddy was still sprawled out on the bed. Mommy had told her what to do. She crept to the foot of the bed and peeked over the wooden circle. "Daddy."

Bruce rolled onto his side and looked at the wall with his eyes closed.

She moved to his head. "Daddy, wake up. I need you to fix it."

"Fix what, Stephanie?" He didn't open his eyes.

"My laptop broke in my room. Fix it, Daddy, please."

"It's a child's laptop." His hazel eyes cracked open. "What did you do to it?"

She shrugged. "It just stopped talking to me."

"Okay, give it here."

"It's in my room." She tugged on his hand. "Get up, Daddy, please." She repeated 'please' until he sat up and swung his pajama-clad legs out of the bed.

"One day that's not going to work." He pulled on his green and orange robe and stuffed his feet in his slippers. "Show me the problem."

Stephanie seized his hand and pulled him across the hall to her bedroom. Mommy held Helena and stood next to the brown-wrapped flat package propped on a chair. Daddy jerked to a stop and she said loudly with Mommy, "Happy Father's Day!"

"What's this?"

"Your present, Daddy, open it."

"I thought my present is not having to go to the event at City Hall this afternoon."

"No, you still have to go to that," Selina said.

He snorted lightly as he pulled the string around the brown paper loose and then pulled the paper away.

Stephanie recognized the man and woman: Daddy's mother and father from the burnt and torn picture. But they wore different clothes, fancy ones like the wedding. It was easier to see in this big picture of them that Daddy's mother had her hair color. Their eyes were the same blue too.

Daddy's voice sounded funny. "I thought you were doing this for the Foundation's offices."

"I had her paint two, one of the offices and one for the house," Mommy said.

Stephanie looked up. Daddy's face didn't move while he looked at the picture. "You don't like it?"

He scooped her up for a hug. "I like it very much." He kissed Stephanie's cheek, kissed the back of Helena's short, brown hair, and then kissed Mommy on the lips. "I have no idea where to hang it though."

"We have no shortage of walls to choose from," Mommy said.

* * *

Selina double-checked her outfit one last time in a first floor mirror. The black wrap dress from her early pregnancy fit again and was dressy enough for the occasion. Her Mother's Day brooch was pinned to the black bolero jacket she paired with the dress. She tucked her loose hair behind her ear before heading down the hall to the kitchen.

Alfred passed her two red roses with leak proof water vials capping their long stems. "The floral arrangements you requested, Missus Selina."

"A political soiree we need flowers for?" Bruce eyebrows slanted together. "Why do we need flowers?" Neither Selina nor Alfred enlightened him, so he took a different tact. "You just gave birth ten days ago; we absolutely do not have to go to this thing."

"I was invited, so you are taking me," she said. "I'm beginning to think you don't trust my surprise social engagements."

"It is other people's social engagements I don't trust, especially when I'm not shown the invitation."

Selina ignored him as she asked Alfred. "There's enough breast milk stored, right?"

"Twelve ounces in the refrigerator and Miss Helena is not eating that much all at once. Master Blake has already left with Miss Stephanie to visit Miss Tara, and Miss Jen has an outing planned with Detective Montoya."

"Stephanie's not intruding?" Bruce asked. "It is Father's Day."

"Miss Tara asked for Miss Stephanie, so enjoy your outing with a clear conscious."

Bruce didn't ask any more questions about the event as they drove the Lamborghini Downtown. Truthfully, she didn't believe he was as in the dark about what she had been invited to as he was pretending to be. It had been mentioned in the news briefly, even if she had hidden the invitation from him. His sleep habits were still erratic--despite Nigma's incarceration--and he helped feed and change Helena as much as he could. Maybe he was sleeping at the office and missed the mention.

City Hall's rotunda had been redecorated. A towering shrouded figure replaced the stone desk she remembered in the center between the two stairs. A semi-circle of two rows of chairs faced the blue cloth and the metal podium next to it. Two more sections of the chair circle were set under the stairs' banisters and the mayor, city council members, and other elected and appointed officials already sat facing the rest of the audience. Gordon spotted them as they sat in the second row at the end without television cameras behind their backs, but only nodded.

Bruce didn't say anything as he leaned back in the metal chair. They were among the last few to arrive. Mayor Hill went to the podium. "Thank you all for taking time away from your families today for this dedication ceremony. We'll keep this short so everyone can get back to their celebrations as soon as possible. So let me introduce one of the Saviors of Gotham City, Commissioner James Gordon."

Gordon moved to the podium as the audience clapped. "Forgive me if I'm blunt, but I don't deserve to be called a savior for doing my duty to the city. And there wouldn't be a city to dutifully protect and rebuild if it weren't for the Batman."

Selina glanced at Bruce's frozen figure beside her.

"We owe our lives to Batman's sacrifice. We owe our crime-reduced streets to his stepping out of the shadows. I got the credit for the arrests, but I only made them because Batman chased the criminals into my arms. He refused all thanks; content with being our watchful protector, a dark knight who faced down the ugliest demons that terrorized the innocent, and died so millions of others could live. Gotham City should never forget that. I hope this memorial will serve as a reminder to everyone of that sacrifice. The last thing he said to me was anyone can be a hero." Gordon's voice caught and he looked down at the podium. "And we can and we will because the Batman believed in us."

Selina glanced at her husband who was giving the hidden statue a contest in immobility. _Damn his ability to lock everything down._ If he would just glance her way, she could read his eyes. He knew that so he stared straight ahead.

"In lieu of a religious funeral for the Batman, I chose this passage from Charles Dickens' _A Tale of Two Cities_. 'I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done. It is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.'"

Gordon sat down and a suited aide moved the podium away from the statue. A young man with a bobbing Adam's apple stepped next to the blue cloth and pulled the hidden cord so it pooled around the base of the stature. The audience clapped, except for Bruce and Gordon.

The bronze enlarged Batman to ten feet tall. The cowled head bowed looking down like he must have on the city rooftops. The right hand gathered the cape so the armor was visible underneath, but you could barely make out the bat symbol on his chest. Selina had seen the concept sketches in the artist's grant application, but the final result took her breath away.

Mayor Hill laid a funeral wreath of white lilies at the base of the statue directly under Batman's nose. Selina touched Bruce's arm and he slid out of his seat, offering her his hand after he stood. His face remained blank as he went with her to lay the two roses among the tributes. They stepped back, but Bruce kept staring at the statue.

Gordon decided to take the bull by the horns with how he strode across the marbled-tiled floor to meet them. That shook Bruce free of his paralysis. "Nice speech," he said as he shook the Commissioner's hand. "A fitting eulogy."

"You really think so?" Gordon adjusted his glasses.

"Yes." Bruce planted a small smile on his face.

"I'm covered in goose bumps," Babs said behind them. She rubbed her arms when they turned to her. "It's like I'm ten all over again." She tossed her red hair off her shoulder. "So can I take you out to eat now?"

"You already did," Gordon said.

"Yeah, but you didn't eat anything."

Bruce and Selina made the rounds shaking hands with the politicians and other donors as well as congratulating the artist. Selina waited until they were closed together inside the Lamborghini again. "Okay, what do you really think?"

"I'm reminded of something Ra's al Ghul told me in his recruitment speech. 'If you make yourself more than just a man, if you devote yourself to an ideal, and if they can't stop you, then you become a legend.'"

"With speeches like that, no wonder he developed a cult of personality."

Bruce's eye crinkled with his smirk. Her worry eased seeing that. "He didn't approve of how I applied his philosophy. But it worked. I set out to create a symbol to inspire the people of Gotham and now they have embraced it." He glanced at her. "You can take the booby trap off the suit cabinet. Gotham has the Batman it needs."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can you get Bruce for Father's Day? I racked my brains until I remembered Selina wanted new art for the Foundation offices, so how about getting Bruce something of his parents that isn't the burnt and torn photograph. And I got to play around with my filters to make the image.
> 
> Just in case you though the story is over with the appearance of the Batman memorial statue and Gordon quoting _A Tale of Two Cities_ ; no we're not done yet. There are still two more chapters to go. I know, I can't believe it either and I'm the one who outlined everything.
> 
> If you had read [_Weapon of the Shadows_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1737266/chapters/3707744) and wondered about Gordon's speech that so inspired Cassandra, I finally wrote it out here. I added the quote because this story eliminated Bruce's funeral, but it's still too perfect not to find a context for. Putting two roses at the statue is a homage of Bruce bringing roses to Crime Alley on the anniversary of his parents' murder as seen in _Batman the Animated Series_ and Tim Burton's _Batman_.


	39. Chapter Thirty-Nine

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 223

Helena's cry woke Selina. The other side of the bed was empty and cold. She waited to hear Bruce's voice through the intercom in the nursery, but only Helena cried again. She slid out from under the sheets, wrapped her robe around her, and went across the hall to the bedroom to the left of Stephanie's.

The nursery was empty of anyone but Helena kicking in her crib. So much for Bruce beating her here. "Oh my fierce girl, are you hungry?" It was time to feed and Helena didn't sleep through meal times. She sat in the rocking chair. Her daughter latched onto her breast, letting Selina think in the quiet.

Helena was eight-weeks-old, and Bruce had yet to sleep through the night again. His nightmares were quiet and he always managed to sneak away if she was sleeping, but that was what worried her. Why did he keep sneaking away?

Selina changed Helena's diaper before putting her back in the crib. Her tiny face scrunched up and she wailed again. "What's a matter? You want to go for a walk? Okay, let's go find your daddy." She stopped at the laptop in their bedroom. None of the other computers on the network were in use, including the Batcomputer. Helena squirmed and Selina adjusted her hold. "Okay, okay, we're walking now." As long as they moved, the squirming stopped. She went down the hall and down the stairs.

The silence of the mansion was broken by a thunk against wood. She remembered that sound and turned into the east wing drawing room. Sure enough, the light was on in the parlor beyond it. She pushed the ajar door open further.

Bruce pulled the string of the composite bow back with his left hand. This arrow hit the colored section of the target hung on the wooden armoire. He pulled the second arrow back with his right hand and that shot nestled with the two already in the bull's-eye.

Helena protested with a kick and a small cry when Selina stopped moving. Bruce turned and set the bow on the marble-topped table holding the arrows. "I'll put it away before Stephanie wakes up."

"Why don't you get a real archery target instead of using the furniture?"

He took the squirming infant and swayed with her. "I have a target. Alfred refused to have it in the house and I refuse to light up the grounds when I want to practice archery at night."

Selina stretched her arm that had held Helena. "So why are you practicing archery at night? You have back-to-back meetings with Wayne Enterprises, Revitalize Gotham, and the Foundation in the daylight today."

"Couldn't sleep."

"I would have worn you out if you just asked."

"That hasn't stopped the nightmares."

"And this does?" She touched the bow.

"Nothing does." His face drooped in a way she last remembered seeing in this room almost a year ago. It didn't help that he was dressed nearly the same way that he had been then. "At least this gives me something else to focus on to shut up the rest."

Selina peered at Helena's closed eyes and open mouth resting on his shoulder. "She's finally asleep. Put the archery set away and help me put her to bed." He passed the sleeping baby to her arms, picked up the arrows and bow from the table, and carried them to the armoire. He pulled the arrows free of the paper target and the wood underneath but crumpled the target and pitched it into the wastebasket.

He adjusted the intercom while Selina laid Helena in her crib. The baby exhaled a tiny sigh but didn't open her eyes. Selina seized Bruce's hand as they crept out of the nursery. His shoulders slumped as she led them into their bedroom.

She didn't pull him to the bed, but the breakfast table. His eyebrows knit together as they sat. "Why haven't you talked to me about it? You've told me about other nightmares."

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Lover, we're way past that point." Bruce winced. "No secrets," she added, "or I'll go brush up on KGB interrogation techniques."

"You think a gulag is worse than this tomb?" He sagged in the chair and rubbed his face.

Selina raised her eyebrows. She suspected it might be location based. His nightmares hadn't been as bad in the penthouse and he hadn't relied on what Alfred called his bad habits to avoid sleep there. So much for all of them living here dispelling the gloom.

"It's a nightmare I've had since childhood." His uncovered eyes focused on the table between them. "I'm walking through the Manor, turn a corner and I'm in the ballroom at my parents' funeral."

"Their funeral was here?"

He nodded. "I thought changing the décor when we rebuilt would be enough to stop it. No such luck, now it's not just my parents and Alfred; it's you, the girls, Jen, and John."

"God, Bruce, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I'm well aware of how morbid I am."

"And this dream didn't change when I got myself kidnapped?" He flinched before he caught himself. She stood in front of his chair. "So I insist on making you feel better."

"What did you have in mind?"

She combed her fingers into his brown hair and tipped his head back further. He craved physical affection, but for eight weeks, he had been considerate and refrained from anything while she healed. She dropped her mouth on his before straddling his lap.

He wrapped his arms around her, anchoring her against him as her hands moved down to his shoulders. Their kiss broke and he gasped for air while her lips rasped against his stubble-covered jaw. His lean fingers got under her robe and nightgown to squeeze her thighs and ass.

She moaned with the pressure. Her hands pushed the robe off his shoulders. "Are you trying to tie me up?" he asked before sucking on her collarbone.

"Do you want me to?"

His breath caught. "Not this time." He shrugged out of the robe one arm at a time and then untied hers. She dropped her arms to her sides and he tugged the robe off.

Her hands slid under the T-shirt he wore with his pajama pants. His muscles bunched under her touch. His fingers traced the curve of her back before finding the edge of her nightgown. He kissed his way down her breast. "The nursing bra has to stay on," she reminded him.

"Pity," he muttered before burying his face in her cleavage.

She raked her fingernails across his torso. His hands roamed down her body and tightened on her ass again. This time he lifted her when he stood. She latched onto his shoulders until he lowered her on the mattress. He shucked off his T-shirt while she peeled off her nightgown. She ended up on top of him, kissing every scar across his body, and riding him until they both climaxed.

He laid back and she rested her head on his shoulder and then draped her left arm and leg over him for good measure. "Brain shut off yet?" she asked.

"No, but I appreciate the effort." He kissed her forehead.

"Lay here with me?" His body needed to rest even if he couldn't face sleep.

His arms tightened around her. "I'll stay."

Selina dozed off after that, but it felt entirely too soon before Bruce was stirring again. "Stay in bed," he said with a kiss. "But I need a shower."

The room was bright enough; he had stayed past dawn at least. "Fine," she slid off of him. "Go get ready for your meetings."

He kissed her again on the lips this time before leaving the bed. She glanced at the clock. Alfred would be in soon with breakfast and Helena would wake up for hers. She retrieved her robe and stared out the window.

Nothing Bruce had told her changed her plans for the day. If anything, it made them more necessary. She stared at the forest that filled in the Wayne Manor grounds beyond the acres of grass. The entrance to the cave was out of sight in that direction.

Alfred brought their breakfast tray in while she was still at the window. "Good morning, Missus Selina. I hope you slept well."

"I slept." She moved to the table. "Married life is not what I thought it would be."

"While I don't have any personal experience, I understand that's a common enough feeling." Helena wailed through the intercom. "I'll go get the little Miss."

Selina swallowed down her juice and some water before settling Helena on her breast with Alfred's help. Bruce joined them in his crisp, white Oxford shirt and grey slacks. "Late nights doesn't bother her any." He touched Helena's hair and kissed Selina before sitting down.

"All she has to do is eat and sleep. How are you functioning?"

He drained his green juice. "Don't worry. Lucius knows how to run the board meetings if I pass out."

"After much practice," Alfred said.

Bruce picked up the printout next to his plate. "Why is there a meeting with Lorry after the Wayne Enterprises board meeting?"

"Because the inventory of personal property is complete and it was either meet with him today or he would camp out here all weekend," Alfred said. "I picked the lesser of two evils for you."

"Thank you, Alfred. But we haven't even discussed options yet."

Helena finished nursing and Selina shifted her to her shoulder to burp. "Go get the options Lorry has thought up. Then he won't feel like you're avoiding him again. And you're staying in bed all night tonight. I'll tie you down to make sure."

"I'll have you know I am an escape artist."

She matched his smirk. "But you won't want to."

Bruce had to leave before Selina finished eating. It was Alfred's day to have the cleaning service in, so Selina promised to keep the girls from underfoot. She dressed in a pair of jeans that fit and sturdy boots. She fastened on her Cartier's bracelet. Last thing she wanted was Bruce to panic about them getting lost.

Stephanie's room was Selina's first stop. "Morning, sweetie. We're going hiking today." She set down Helena and the bouncer before going into Stephanie's closet.

"What's hiking?" Stephanie left her play kitchen to hang on the closet doorjamb.

"A long walk through the woods." She found a pair of jeans, T-shirt, and a long-sleeved, button-up shirt to wear over it. "Let's go to the bathroom and get dressed."

Helena took even less time to dress in an onesie than getting Stephanie ready. Stephanie helped by packing the diaper bag with extras of everything. Helena snuggled against Selina's chest in the infant pack carrier as Selina knocked on Blake's bedroom door. "Up and at 'em, Boy Wonder."

Blake opened the door already dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and heavy-duty khaki pants. "I hate you with a fiery passion right now."

"And if the Riddler or Bane found this potential back door?" She held up a folded map of the Manor grounds.

"I'm awake now, aren't I?"

Stephanie wrapped her arms around his legs. "You don't hate Mommy, do you, Uncle John?"

"No, I don't, I'm just grumpy." He ruffled her hair. "No one else can follow your research, right?"

"The maps are public access, but I have the key in my possession."

"And we're surprising Bruce." He handed her a palm-sized radio that had a belt clip attached to its back. "Fox swears these can talk to outer space, but I think testing its range at the greenhouse is our first step."

"Okay, where's the rest of your gear?"

"In the cave already. And I better go before the cleaners get here."

They avoided Alfred and Jen who was getting ready for her lunch date and split up on the ground floor: Blake into the study and Selina took the girls out via the west wing patio. "When can I go see the Batcave?" Stephanie asked as they headed down the lawn steps.

"Why did you call it that?" Selina was certain they hadn't referred to the wildlife that lived in it in Stephanie's presence.

"It's where all the Batman stuff is, right? So when can I go?"

"When you're older and after you learn how to swim. I'm thinking ten."

"That's so far away."

"Something to look forward to." Selina stopped next to the locked greenhouse in the formal garden. "Reached the greenhouse," she said into the radio. "You ready?"

"Read you just fine. Rope secured, helmet headlight on. The compass direction for the underground river is northwest."

Selina unfolded her map. "That's the same quadrant the lodge is supposed to be according to the 1820 survey." She turned northwest. That direction would take them around the rear of the mansion's hill and into the nearest arm of the forest. "Okay, we're setting out." She clipped the radio onto her waistband and picked up a set of heavy duty hedge shears. "This way, Stephanie."

Stephanie darted ahead until they got among the old growth, and returned to Selina's side. "These trees are as big as buildings."

"Nobody needed to cut them down."

There wasn't a path, but there wasn't thick undergrowth to cut a path through either. Stephanie touched every trunk they passed. Selina switched which shoulder the diaper bag hung from and carried the hedge shears in the opposite hand.

The radio clicked. "Selina, I think you are onto something. There are posts sunk close to the wall for a narrow deck. Somebody wanted to walk down here without wading," Blake said.

"The way is clear?"

"Wide enough for the Tumbler. Since I'm not wearing a wetsuit, I haven't tried to see how deep the middle is."

The ground under foot changed. She could see the remains of a cobblestone path. The undergrowth that surrounded them now was hedges allowed to grow into small trees. The branches also had grown together into a wall across the stone path. "I think we've found it, but I have to cut a path. Selina out."

"Roger."

"Stephanie, I need you to sit next to this tree while I cut through." She set down the diaper bag and made sure the carrier protected Helena's face.

Stephanie moved the diaper bag to her lap and watched Selina give the pair of hedges a lopsided trim. "The gardeners wouldn't like that."

"They can make it pretty later. We have to stay with Uncle John." Selina pulled the cut branches out of the way. "We can fit through that, let's go."

Stephanie carried the diaper bag through the hole in the hedge. Grass and small trees pushed through the stone drive in front of what was left of the house. The roof that had capped the three-story, brick, colonial Georgian mansion was gone and a maple tree spread its branches where it had been and through the missing third floor side wall. A few panes of glass still clung to some upper windows. A small pediment was supported over the front door by a pair of pilasters, but the front door had fallen off the hinges a long time past. The whole thing would fit in one wing of the current Wayne Manor.

"Is this what we were looking for?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes, this is the house that the Wayne family lived in before they built the Manor we live in." Selina unclipped the radio. "John, we found the lodge."

"Holy sh-eets, Selina! You were right. There's steps carved in the rocks down here."

"Trust me to find the forgotten back door. Can you get out?"

"I see daylight. The basement wall eroded away."

Selina peered in through the front door. "I think the floor has rotted away too." Helena kicked in the carrier and wailed. "Hang tight, John. That is Helena's diaper change cry."

"Roger. I'll poke around down here."

She found a rootless spot on the ground for a baby blanket. The cell phone rang while she was wiping Helena's butt. "Answer it, please, Stephanie."

Stephanie found the phone in the diaper bag's outer pocket. "Hi, Daddy, we're hiking. Mommy's changing Helena. We found a broken house in the woods and Uncle John is underground."

"Should I pack a ladder as well as lunch?" Bruce's voice said over the phone's speaker phone function. "Alfred's put out that you didn't tell him you were leaving for hours."

Selina's radio cackled. "Selina, did you plan on a dead body being down here?" Blake asked.

"I heard that," Bruce said. "Where are you?"

"At the broken house," Stephanie answered. "It must be a tree house."

"I'm wearing my bracelet," Selina said as she scooted a clean diaper under Helena. Then she answered the radio. "I wasn't expecting a dead body." She put it down and drew the diaper around Helena's legs.

"Mommy's wearing her cat bracelet," Stephanie said helpfully to Bruce.

"He's not fresh dead, but we still have to call the police," Blake said through the radio.

"I'm on my way," Bruce said through the phone.

"Okay, bye," Stephanie said. Selina rolled her eyes as she buttoned the onesie around Helena's kicking legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now let's have a discussion about stately Wayne Manor and how I've been displeased with most of its portrayals over the years. The Adam West television series, which was my first gateway into Batman, featured a Tudor/Gothic Revival mansion built in 1928. Nice look and older than what I had thought before doing research, but it never felt like East Coast to me. Neither does that Gotham, but it is its own thing that I love.
> 
> Tim Burton ramped up the Gothic aspects in his films by going with a British Gothic Tudor mansion since they filmed in England. Joel Schumacher (holy hell, I actually have something nice to say about his Batman films beside Chris O'Donnell was a fine Robin) came back to America and used Stevenson Taylor Hall, Webb Institute which is a 1914 Jacobean, Tudor, and Renaissance-influenced mansion in Glen Cove, New York. The same one the _Gotham_ television series is using and the one that made me sit up and notice it as American architecture. Right now, it's the one I like the best.
> 
> So now we're up to Nolan's choices. Filming in England again, he used Mentmore Towers in _Batman Begins_ and Wollaton Hall for _the Dark Knight Rises_. They are beautiful Gothic buildings and historically connected to each other, but manage to feel all wrong to me. They're older than America and not built in American versions of the style. What I don't understand if you want something that massive, why didn't you get exterior shots of the Biltmore Estate? It's American, and the time period it was built in is right with the comic history since it was Judge Solomon Wayne and his son who built Wayne Manor. But they didn't go that route and the rest of the discussion will follow in the next chapter.


	40. Chapter Forty

Bruce drove the gardeners' Kawasaki mule into the woods as he followed the dot representing the tracker on his tablet perched on its dashboard. He parked when the vehicle no longer fit between the trees and heard Stephanie's shrill voice. "But I want to see!"

"Sweetie, that's not respectful. He deserves to have his death investigated so we can tell his family what happened to him," Selina explained.

He picked up the picnic basket and blanket and headed toward their voices. A wall of hedges separated them, but he found the hole cut in them. Stephanie sat on the ground next to Helena's baby blanket. Helena kicked as she lay on her back. Selina reached into the doorway of the ruined house and pulled Blake through the threshold. His clothes were wet from the waist down and muddy from the knees down.

Stephanie spotted Bruce first and ran to him. "Daddy! We found a tree house!"

"I see." Bruce caught her and set her on his hip. A tree grew inside the ruined walls.

"Mommy won't let me see the dead body."

"Yeah, Mommy's right about that." Stephanie pouted so he turned to the pair leaving the ruins. "What's going on?"

Selina picked up Helena. "You're back early. Lucius sent you home because you're too cranky for meetings?"

"Everything wrapped up early. Good thing; now where's the body?"

Blake moved the picnic basket next to the diaper bag. "In what was the basement of this house, and you won't ruin your wingtips as long as you stay out of the cave."

Bruce set Stephanie down, pulled the blanket from under the basket handles, and unfurled it for Selina and the girls. "Help Mommy with lunch." He patted Stephanie's head. "I brought a ladder," he said to Blake.

Blake followed Bruce back to the mule and they freed the extension ladder from the roof straps. "This is long enough to get down there. Repelling is a lot easier when you don't have to worry that the wall will fall down on you."

"Just how much repelling are you doing in Old Town?" Bruce picked up the other end of the ladder.

"I'm going to audit some engineering classes. Nobody told me structural engineering was important for a cop or a caped crusader."

They slid the ladder down shadowed hole at the front doorway where a floor should have been. Blake retrieved his helmet with a head lamp and went down first. Bruce had light underneath him and sunlight filtered through the leaves, so the basement wasn't as dark as the cave entrance that the fallen brick and stone wall underground revealed. "The cave reaches all the way here?" Bruce asked as he accepted the flashlight Blake handed him.

"That's what Selina was worried about. It's clear the whole way back to the main cavern. The body is over here." Blake pointed his light down at a moved section of stone blocks. "The wall had a door built in it. I lifted the hinges and found his boot."

Bruce squatted next to the skeleton and moved the beam of light over the tattered black suit and hat it wore. They were older than any styles he had seen his father wear and reminded him of clothes he had seen in Civil War and Sherlock Holmes movies. The white hilt of a dagger stuck out from his ribs. "That does look like murder. A suicide wouldn't stab his lungs."

"The way the body lies, I think he died trying to get through the cave door," Blake said. "And then the wall fell on top of him and sheltered the body."

"But why was he out here?" Bruce asked as he stood. Blake shrugged. He checked the cell phone signal, called the police's non-emergency number, and explained the situation before climbing back up the ladder. Once in the great outdoors again, he called Alfred to expect a detective to arrive for the body on the property and then explained the situation again while Blake found a spot next to the picnic blanket. Bruce put the phone away, sat, and accepted a sandwich from Stephanie. "Thank you. Now somebody please tell me how and why you found a dead body?"

Selina patted Helena's back as she held the baby propped against her shoulder. "While you and John were busy securing the Manor and Wayne Enterprises from future Riddler attacks, I went looking for less obvious targets. The most wide open one was the Wayne Special Collection at the Hudson University library. Did you know Gordon's daughter is working there as part of her major?"

"No, but what could the Riddler find out from almost two hundred year old documents?" Bruce asked before taking another bite of his sandwich.

Selina got Stephanie to bring her a bag of chips. "That's what I thought too, so I was delivering a police sketch and a warning to call the police if he was spotted until I found out that Miranda Tate had paid a visit." Bruce's back stiffened. Selina continued, "We lucked out there. She only looked at the Manor's plans that your architect had researched for rebuilding the Manor and Judge Solomon Wayne's published memoir. However, his diary is what held the juicy details about sneaking people for the Underground Railroad into the caves on the Manor grounds."

"Uncle John found a subway?" Stephanie asked.

"Not exactly. It was a secret route to help people run away from bad people who were hurting them," Selina explained.

"When they got to Gotham, your great-great-great-grandfather hid them from bad people looking for them," Bruce added.

"And he wrote in his diary that they entered the caves at the old Hunting Lodge. You said he put in the first elevator down to the Batcave, so then I worried there was a back door you didn't know about. I finally found a reference to the lodge on a property survey map from a Charles Wayne's time. Then I had fun figuring out where it is with the current property lines. How many neighbors did you buy out?" Selina laid Helena on the blanket.

"This diary is still accessible by the public?" Bruce frowned. He had no idea how to request something be removed from a special collection, even if you could.

Selina smirked. "I tried to get it out of there but little Babs caught me and then wouldn't budge when I wanted to redact the entry. But the kicker, after Jen was kidnapped, she decided I was right and cut the whole page out."

"The research she brought to you."

"I stashed it in the jewelry safe, but we need to find a better place for it."

"But why didn't you tell me?" Bruce asked.

"Surprise," Stephanie answered.

"Finding a dead body wasn't part of the surprise," Selina said. "I'm very annoyed with him."

Bruce's cell phone rang. "Detective Crispus Allen has arrived, Master Wayne," Alfred informed him.

"Detective Allen is here about our mysterious dead body," Bruce repeated.

"I'll go get him," Blake offered as he stood up. He took off his utility belt and hid it and grapple gun in the picnic hamper.

"Are we staying here all day?" Stephanie asked.

"The detective will need to talk to us." Bruce picked up their litter and packed it back into the picnic hamper.

Detective Allen was an African-American man as tall as Bruce with a smooth shaved skull. He shook Bruce's hand. "Got a little more than you bargained for with this archeology project, Mr. Wayne?"

"You could say that. Thank you for coming. This is my wife, Selina, and our daughters, Stephanie and Helena."

"Sorry for the unpleasantness. Which way is it?"

Blake pointed to the front door of the ruined Georgian mansion. "Down the ladder; we got a spare flashlight."

Stephanie tiptoed after them. "Stephanie, come back here," Bruce said.

"No fair, everybody else gets to see him."

"I haven't." Selina passed Helena to Bruce. "You still haven't said how your meetings went."

"Revitalize Gotham is providing concrete for the city's rebuilding projects, Lorry's options for the will are back at the house, the Board of Directors is ecstatic over Wayne Enterprises' stock price, the toy line has improved the Foundation's bottom line, signed off on your fundraising event for next Friday, and spoke with Mr. Haly. He promised quite the show."

"And home for lunch. You've had a full day already and we have more planning to do later."

Bruce mentally ran over his calendar. "Oh right, somebody's got a birthday coming up soon."

Stephanie looked up from the gnarled tree root she balanced on. "My birthday! It's on the eleventh. Timmy had a clown who did magic at his birthday party."

"So you want clowns at your birthday party?" Bruce asked.

"No, I'd rather have the pony ride from Easter."

The ladder clanked as it shifted with the weight of the two men climbing up it. Allen emerged first. "That must be a cold case before there was even a police department." He pulled a plastic bag holding a leather wallet about seven inches long from his jacket pocket. "Do the initials J.T.W. mean anything to you?"

Selina gasped, "Joshua Thomas Wayne?"

"A relation?" Allen asked.

"My great-great-great-uncle," Bruce answered.

"That's a lot of greats," Stephanie said.

Bruce nodded. "He disappeared during the Civil War. That's the correct era for those clothes."

"Disappeared right before it broke out," Selina added. "Judge Solomon Wayne never saw Joshua again when he left to lead bounty hunters away from their passengers."

"They were conductors on the Underground Railroad," Bruce explained.

"And I just read Judge Solomon Wayne's memoir when I was researching the family trees. I was going to put up one in the nursery," Selina added.

"My wife did that for our boys with pictures of the family members," Allen said. "So the family back then assumed the bounty hunters got him?"

"Their bodies were found in the Liberty River. The Judge decided the same thing must have happened to Joshua, but Providence made sure the Wayne name was unconnected to the Railroad," Selina said.

"Then his son was born, the war started, and his sister tried to join the Union Army." Bruce shifted his grip on Helena. "The Judge never looked for Joshua here."

"Poor soul." Allen slipped the wallet back into his jacket pocket. "So close to his loved ones, but not close enough. The coroner's office will have to pick up the body, but it won't take long for them to sign off on the paperwork and release the body for burial."

"Thanks for clearing up an old family mystery." Bruce shook his hand again. "Let's get the girls back to the house and we can handle the rest."

* * *

Eventually, they got the house back to themselves. Selina retreated to the study to nurse Helena. Blake went upstairs to get some sleep and Stephanie went to her room to play, so Bruce followed Selina ahead of Alfred bringing them a tea tray. His wife sat on a cushioned bench and looked annoyed in general though it softened as she looked down at the feeding baby. Bruce headed to the desk. "I don't know why you aren't more excited for having solved a hundred-fifty-three-year-old mystery and hiding the evidence trail to the cave's back door."

She frowned as she accepted the water glass from Alfred. "I didn't set out to solve a mystery and now Joshua ruined my plans."

"I'm positive he didn't plan on getting murdered that night, so cut the poor guy some slack." Bruce took a cookie off the plate Alfred held out to him.

"You aren't going to like living at the scene of his death any more than you like living here so I'm back at square one."

He dropped the cookie back on the plate. "Living where?"

Selina took a deep breath. "Bruce, you hate this house. You try to keep it buried, but we've all noticed how it affects you. Living here doesn't work for you, and Alfred hates the penthouse."

"It's like living in a giant aquarium," Alfred said when they both looked at him. He set Bruce's tea cup on the desk.

"So I remembered you have a construction company now if there was a backdoor to the Batcave, we could rebuild the lodge or build a new house on that spot." She pursed her lips. "A win for everyone until Joshua's bones turned up."

Bruce left the desk and sat on the other end of Selina's bench. "Build another house on Wayne Manor. That is brilliant. I hope Helena ends up with you adaptability. I won't have nightmares about Joshua; I never knew him. Alfred, what do you think?"

Alfred held out the cookie plate to Selina as he took back her empty glass. "As long as this new Manor has the kitchen I am accustomed to, I'd be happy to relocate. But what will we do with the current Manor house?"

"Turn it over to the orphans of Gotham City like Bruce has always wanted to do. St. Swithin's needs the room, the Foundation can administrate, and we'll be here too. It'll never turn into a Willowwood."

"The answer for everything." Bruce leaned over Selina, tilted her head back, and kissed her deeply. "Do I do as good a job taking care of you as you do taking care of me?" he asked after he pulled back.

Selina's hooded eyes looked up at him. "I've got no complaints."

* * *

### Rebuilding Gotham City: Day 231

Alfred double checked his own list before powering down the laptop. All was in readiness for Miss Stephanie's birthday party on Sunday. The pony ride was arranged, the cake ordered, the ice cream hidden in the walk-in freezer, and invitations sent and accepted. Once tonight's fundraiser at Haly's Circus and the birthday party were done, the household would focus on building the new Wayne Manor. Master Bruce wanted the orphans moved in by Christmas at the latest. "We can share this house if we have to. The West Wing is bigger than their current building," he had said. Alfred shook his head. Hopefully putting in the drive back to the lodge site wouldn't be delayed by weather.

Speaking of schedules, it was high time the family set off to make it to the event. Missus Selina had worked too hard on this partnership with Haly's Circus, the Children's Aid Society, St. Swithin's, and other reopening institutions that care for children. The ticket proceeds and concession revenues from the circus' 2013 - 2014 nationwide tour would fund the programs Master Bruce set up years ago to keep children fostered until they graduated high school and not shoved out onto the streets when they reached sixteen. The Foundation would underwrite the expenses of the show and advertising, and the circus would keep the profit from their carnival games. He found the family in the Great Hall, preoccupied with last minute fussing.

Jen pulled the hem of the bolero jacket she wore over a black sequined blouse and tight jeans. "Are you sure it's all right for me and Renee to be in the booth with you guys?"

"I don't think the big top has booths," Bruce said, "but yes, it's fine." He straightened his tie.

"No PDA," Selina said as she laid Helena in Alfred's arms. Her new purple dress had black side panels which made her hourglass figure look more pronounced than it actually was two months after giving birth.

"Selina, it's a circus. I know how to behave at a circus."

"Helena's been fed and changed, and there's more breast milk in the fridge. I think that's everything." Selina bit down lightly on her red bottom lip.

"Go enjoy yourself, Missus Selina. Miss Helena is much better behaved than Master Wayne, and we both survived to his adulthood. Barely."

Bruce helped Stephanie put a jean jacket over her purple sundress and black leggings. "No giving Helena any ideas about what she can get away with. Selina does that enough."

"Do you want something from the circus, Alfred?" Stephanie asked.

"Just for you to have a good time, Miss Stephanie, and to tell me all about it when you get back."

"I can't wait for the trapeze swingers!" The soon-to-be five-year-old jumped up and down.

Jen snickered. "Trapeze artists," Selina corrected as Bruce helped her into a black sweater.

"But they swing."

"Let's just call them by their name, the Flying Graysons," Bruce suggested.

"At least she isn't frightened by clowns or the rest of it," Alfred said.

"Why Bruce, you have a childhood phobia about clowns?" Selina asked with a teasing smirk.

Bruce opened the door. Master Blake had moved the SUV to the front door before he left to his patrol. "No, a strong dislike only developed nine years ago. We both have our phones if anything happens."

"Very good, sir. Enjoy yourselves." He stood on the steps and helped Miss Helena wave a chubby fist good-bye as the SUV roared down the drive. "Now Miss, you and I are in for a nice quiet evening." He closed and locked the door.

### The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told everyone we'd see Joshua Wayne again.
> 
> Back to the discussion on Wayne Manor: I was stuck with what Nolan used and came up with Bruce's improvements and decorating changes were an attempt to stop his nightmares, and the old Hunting Lodge as a solution to the housing problem. Eventually they won't rebuild the Georgian mansion that was there, but blend the Georgian and Gothic Revival into Renaissance Revival for a smaller Wayne Manor. I've been inspired by the Breakers in Newport, Rhode Island. Smaller because of the class conflict that helped fuel the Occupation and who the hell does Bruce Wayne have to impress? But that won't happen until after a certain acrobat becomes part of the family.
> 
> Most everyone probably has a pretty good guess as to what happens next in their lives. Incidentally, despite my Dick/Babs-shipper membership, this timeline is probably the only one I can see a Dick/Starfire relationship happening in the future. But as my writing plans for 2015 stand right now, I don't plan on writing it.
> 
> I have appreciated everyone who has enjoyed this series, but when I started writing it back in 2013, I never foresaw it taking a year-and-a-half to complete it. All other writing projects have fallen to the wayside and now I need to go pick them up again.
> 
> The next posting will be the fanmix soundtrack for this story. After that, I'll probably be filling in AO3's archive with the rest of my Fanfic library. If you don't want to wait to see what else I've written, you can check them out at the [BookWorm's Library](http://www.bookwormlibrary.us/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The Wayne Legacy Fanmix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3336320) by [KLCtheBookWorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLCtheBookWorm/pseuds/KLCtheBookWorm)




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